


The Beauty of a Secret

by ZenithAkko



Series: The Beauty of a Secret [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Slow Burn, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:20:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenithAkko/pseuds/ZenithAkko
Summary: “It will all be over soon.” A moment's hesitation, a moment of weakness. Her hand faltered as it rose to point her wand towards the plump, red-haired woman. She was resisting. She was trying.She failed. She uttered the curse and everything else fell into darkness.~After being told of her father's plan to marry off his disgrace of an only-daughter, Kensi receives a mysterious letter warning her of the dangers surrounding the Malfoy boy. She is too caught up in trying to help Harry figure out what Draco and his family are up to. Soon, she's too close, and it's too late.
Relationships: Implied Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character, Past Fred Weasley/Original Female Character
Series: The Beauty of a Secret [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880800
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Her face haunted his dreams. He studied the curve of her lips as they curled up into an smirk. _“This is for him.”_ Her hand slid gracefully from the Slytherin's shoulder to cup his cheek. “ _I'm with you now, Draco._ ” A tear ran down her cheek as she struggled against the curse. They both turned to look at her and she took a confident step forward. He could vaguely hear a panicked voice in the background, but all he could focus on were the tears running down their captive's face. “ _It will all be over soon._ ” A moment's hesitation, a moment of weakness. Her hand faltered as it rose to point her wand towards the plump, red-haired woman. She was resisting. She was trying.

She failed. She uttered the curse and everything else fell into darkness.

He awoke with a start for the fourth time that week. This dream was different from the rest. He finally found what he was looking for. The unmistakable family portraits on the wall. _But whose family?_ He lay still, eyes squeezed shut, remembering. _Black hair, black eyes._ Remember. Remember. _Black._

Family Black.

Grimmauld Place.

He bolted upright, ran to his desk, and picked up his quill. _She must be warned._


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kensi and Draco are told of the engagement plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this story while referring to both the sixth film and book, so the plot will be a combination of both, as well as my own retelling/plot points, of course. I had to keep Sirius alive because I just love him too much. Also, Kensi Rookwood has no affiliation to the Rookwood Death Eater, I honestly forgot he existed. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Chapter One

“I will not marry him!” I glared at the platinum haired boy in front of me. “Never!”

My father stood behind me and growled, “Kensi! Where are your manners?” I scoffed and threw myself on the couch. “It has been arranged already; it will not happen immediately, but it _will_ happen,” he told me.

“I'm _sixteen,_ Father!” I shouted, not bothering to even try and conceal my anger. “And he's a bloody pig! I don't want to marry him.” Draco's stare remained hard and cold, save the twitch of his grinding jaw. I must admit, he was better than me at hiding his emotions. “I don't care how important 'uniting the bloodlines' is to you, I won't do it.” I watched as Draco winced from his seat at the table on the far side of the room, and the loud bang from behind me signalled that my father had slammed his fist on his desk.

“How dare you!” I knew I had gone to far. The next thing I knew, he had moved in front of me and dragged me up by my arm. “Don't you ever speak to me like that again.” I felt the burn of his grip even after he let me go.

“Have we come to an agreement?” I heard the voice of Lucius Malfoy as he entered the room. Draco rose from his seat to stand in front of me and looked to his shoes. As much as I despised him, we were in the same boat, both being forced into this ludicrous situation. “I trust we can make this work, Hengist.” My body went tense as he stepped towards us, heart thudding in my chest and fists clenched. The Death-Eater wouldn't dare let anything slip in this situation – no, he was far too refined for an outburst – but after the events that unfolded at the Ministry just a few months prior, I was on my guard.

“Of course, Lucius,” my father said as he lead his friend to the door with a hand on his shoulder, “she will come around, I will make sure of that.” I stayed frozen in place as I watched Draco trail out behind them, not giving me a second look. “You are grounded,” my father told me when he returned, “and you can't go with your friends this Sund-”

“No!” I screamed, finally moving. “No, father, we go to King's Cross on Monday, I have to be-”

“Unless!” He shouted above my pleas, “unless you show me that you can be civil with the Malfoys on Saturday, the next time you see your friends will be at Hogwarts.” His stern tone told me he wasn't having any more of it. “I will take you all the way there, if I have to. This is the least you can do to redeem yourself.” There was a finality in his voice, he didn't want to argue with me any longer.

I scoffed. Marrying a Malfoy was the _least_ I could do? “And you think I asked to be sorted into Gryffindor all those years ago?” I was verging on tears. “You think I don't know how much you hate me for it, how important Slytherin is in this household?”

My father looked at me with disappointment evident in his eyes before leaving the room.

~oOo~

When I entered my bedroom, slamming the door behind me, I found a familiar owl sat at the open window. “Oh, Hedwig, thank goodness,” I said as she flew to sit on my desk. It cheered me slightly to see she was carrying a letter, which she dropped into my open hand. “Thanks, girl.” She chirped at me and settled down at the foot of my bed next to Fletcher, my screech owl. I recognised the handwriting on the letter as Harry's, so I opened it immediately:

_Kensi,_

_How are you? Dumbledore brought me to the Burrow yesterday and I was surprised to see you haven't arrived yet. Ron told me Fred and George are picking you up this Sunday, I'm looking forward to seeing you again. Everyone misses you._

_I've got a lot to tell you when you get here. Dumbledore has given me a task and I don't know what to make of it._

_Let me know how you are._

_Stay safe,_

_Harry_

I was happy to finally hear from him. Father doesn't let me receive owls through much of the summer, only until the last week or so, to organise my plans for leaving. It was especially difficult to be left in the dark for months, after what conspired just before we left for the holidays.

I sat at my desk and pick up my quill. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should tell him everything. I decided it would be best to wait until I saw him in person, and eventually I wrote:

_Harry,_

_I was so glad to see Hedwig today. This summer has been more difficult than usual after all that happened at the Ministry. How is Snuffles? I heard they found him, is he recovering okay?_

_I can't wait to leave this place, if I can. Father has said he will only let me leave if I behave at his big event on Saturday. I will try my best, although I don't know how easy it will be with Malfoy there._

_I look forward to seeing all of you._

_Staying safe,_

_Kensi_

I sealed the letter, wrote Harry's name on the envelope, and called Hedwig over. She took the letter and flew out of the open window. The flap of her wings rustled the papers on my desk, and something unfamiliar caught my eye. There was a second letter on my desk. I picked it up and inspected the seal. A simple letter _'V'_ was imprinted in the deep burgundy wax _._ I turned the envelope over in my hands. “Miss K Rookwood,” I read aloud. No address, just my name. I didn't recognise the handwriting. _Who is it from?_ I wondered. “Did you bring me this, Fletch?” I looked to my sleeping owl, but he gave me no clues.

I leaned back in my desk chair and turned it over in my hands, studying every corner of it. I slowly broke the seal and took the parchment out. I unfolded the letter and read the two simple sentences;

_Be wary with the Malfoy boy. You will betray The Order._

I furrowed my eyebrows and read it once, twice more, attempting to decipher it. 'The Malfoy Boy' must be referring to Draco, but why? I huffed and read it once more, out loud, “You will betray The Order.” The Order of the Phoenix? But that's impossible, I could never do that.

I turned it over in my hands, looking for any clues as to who sent it. The handwriting seemed messy, rushed. The person's quill had punched holes through the paper and there were ink spots everywhere. The writing was smudged. They were in such a hurry to write this that they hadn't bothered to knock off the excess ink, or wait for it to dry before folding the parchment.

I suddenly heard footsteps approaching and quickly hid the letter in the pages of the open Potions textbook on my desk. My father's footsteps passed my bedroom door and carried on down the hall. I decided I was too worn out to understand the mysterious letter, and got into bed.

I woke just hours later, the letter 'V' etched into my brain and a scream dying in my throat.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have tagged this as 'Underage Smoking', but teeeechnically they're not underage at the time as they are 16, and it is the 90's in England. (however smoking is still very bad for you, please do not do it, I do not want to romanticise it)

Chapter Two

I didn't get the letter out again after that night. After the nightmares and restless sleep that ensued, even the mere _thought_ of the letter filled me with dread. I left it in the book and packed it away with the rest of the belongings that I was taking with me to the Burrow and, subsequently, to school. I also never saw another reply from Harry; I assumed it was because it was only a matter of days until I saw him, but worry pecked away in my gut.

In the meantime, I got my O.W.L results. I had achieved an Outstanding in Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, and Herbology. The rest of the subjects were initialled with a neat _'E'_ , indicating an _'Exceeds Expectations',_ bar two – an Acceptable for both History of Magic and Charms. That was unexpected – being my weakest areas, I thought even a pass was out of reach. Satisfied, I mentioned it to my Father, who simply nodded in response.

Saturday came quickly and before I knew it, I was standing in front of my mirror in my bedroom. The house elves were helping me get into a dress they had made me, by my father's orders. It was a deep, velvety green; the colour of Slytherin. He had always insisted I wore the colour when mingling with his old classmates. One elf stood on a stool behind me to zip up the back of the garment, whilst another stood in front of me to tie the belt at the waist, and one more was at my side, attempting to put my black heels on my feet. “Guys, calm down,” I huffed as I tried to keep my balance, “one at a time.”

Once I was ready, they all stepped away and I looked in the mirror. I added final touches, in the form of black pearl jewellery and dark lipstick, while Binky waved her hand to tie my black hair back into a messy bun. “Are you pleased, Miss?”She asked me cautiously.

I smiled down at her. “Of course, Binky,” I said as I patted her head gently. “And thank you Bunsten and Remmy.” They all smiled timidly at me. Although I make an effort to treat them as well as I can, they are still nervous creatures out of habit.

“Master will be waiting for you, Miss Kensi,” Bunsten said as he opened my door for me.

“Thank you!” I called out one last time as I grabbed my handbag and left the room.

I made my way across the hall and descended the stairs. My heeled footsteps echoed around the large empty living room as I found my way across the house, and to the main hall. It was our largest room and my father only ever used it for his extravagant parties. I scanned the room, which was already busy, and spotted my father by one of the food tables. I made my way over to him, smiling and curtseying at familiar faces along the way. “Kensi, at last.” He kissed my cheek, an action reserved for public displays.

Despite how much I hated the performance of pandering to old bigots I had to endure for these public events, they did help me feel what it was like to have a normal father-daughter relationship. The pleasantries we exchanged, I could almost pretend he meant them. Almost.

Father was with Narcissa Malfoy and a beautiful woman with warm honey skin, whom I recognised from previous functions, but had never been formally introduced to. “Have you met Ms Zabini?”

She chuckled and extended a hand, which I shook, admiring at the softness of her skin. “Please, Abriella.” Even her voice was mesmerising.

“Lovely to finally meet you, Abriella.” As she dropped my hand, Draco and Blaise appeared, sauntering over from a group of Slytherin boys from our year.

“Great timing, boys,” my father grinned at them, “you can help Kensi fetch some more drinks from the kitchen.”

I groaned. “Dad, we have elves for a reason.”

He ignored me and carried on speaking to Draco, “Champagne and the good red from the wine room, please.”

“Yes, sir,” Draco replied and turned to me, “after you.” I huffed and lead the way to the kitchen, Draco and Blaise in tow.

“Don't you clean up well,” Zabini said once we had reached our destination, “Not too shabby, Rookwood.”

“Shut it, Zabini,” I hissed, throwing him a glare as he opened and closed several cupboards, “and get out of there.” Blaise breathed a huff of air from his nose, scoffing at me, and held his hands up in defence. Binky had left the bottles of champagne next to the sink, so I grabbed one in each hand. “Here,” I shoved them towards Blaise, “take them to my father.”

He raised his eyebrows at Malfoy, who nodded towards the door, giving him his cue to leave. Once he had, I opened a door leading to a temperature-controlled pantry full of wine bottles, gesturing for him to enter. “Good luck finding the ' _good wine_ ' in here,” I told Draco as he walked in, “there's loads.” The blond boy didn't say a word, instead he started browsing the shelves, fingers ghosting over the labels. He picked one up and walked past me back into the kitchen. “Man of many words,” I mumbled under my breath.

I followed him through to find him pouring the drink into a glass. I watched as he took a long sip and place it back on the counter. “You know we can't get out of this, right?” It speaks!

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, leaning against the marble a decent few feet away from him. “Out of what?” He let out an aggravating, dark laugh. “Malfoy, _what_?” I snapped.

“This engagement.” He finished the wine in his glass and turned to me as I stared blankly at him. “How are we going to stop them? There's no way.” I took a minute to truly look at him. He had dark circles hanging under his eyes and his suit seemed to engulf his slim form. For the first time ever, he seemed so small. “They always get their way. _Always_.” He left for hall, taking the wine with him.

In a way, he was right. There was no changing our parents' minds, but there had to be a way to get out of it. “Fucking Malfoy,” I whispered. I dug in my bag and found the pack of cigarettes I had taken from my dad's office a few weeks before. I went through the door leading to the back garden and sat on a wooden bench. I lit one of the cigarettes and took a drag. I only coughed slightly on the exhale, a tickle of my throat more than anything, and felt oddly proud. I had only smoked a handful of times and, honestly, I didn't really get it. Sure, it helped to calm me down, but I'd rather relax in the fresh air than air filled with toxic smoke. But at this point, it was becoming something of a habit.

I heard the door I had just come through open again, and I froze praying it wasn't my father. I looked across and saw it was Malfoy again. “That'll kill you, you know.” His voice was calmer than before, but not enough to be called soft. He warily stepped closer to me. I nodded, shifted to the side to let him sit down, and offered him my cigarette. He took it from me, put it to his lips, and inhaled. He held it for a second, two, and then exploded in a coughing fit. “Why would you do that?” He wheezed as he handed it back to me.

I chuckled at his drop in resolve. “Not so tough, Malfoy,” I commented once he'd regained his composure, earning a sneer in return. We sat in silence while I finished smoking and flicked the butt in the general direction of the patio. I looked over at the boy next to me; he had his eyes closed, feeling the last remains of the summer air on his face. I couldn't really hate him as much as I made out; we were too alike. Our fathers were awful people. Did he even know his father was a Death-Eater? Did he even know his father almost killed me, just a few months prior?

My father wasn't aware of any of it. Despite being good friends with the Malfoys, I assumed my father had no idea they were Lord Voldemort's followers; the Dark Lord wasn't exactly a topic openly discussed in our house. My father told me my mother was killed by muggles when I was very young – too young to really have any real memories – hence his inclination towards a discriminatory mindset. At the time I believed him, but as I grew up, my views changed. That was the reason Father had wanted to keep me away from muggles and muggle-borns. Maybe it was the pureblood Slytherin in him, maybe something awful really did happen to my mother. To be honest, I didn't think I would ever find out. So, my father did have the shared ideologies that most Slytherins leaned towards, and maybe he did support Voldemort, but he had never expressed it to me.

Draco opened his eyes and looked over to me. “What do you think of this engagement, then?”

“I think that I never want to marry you, or have anything else to do with you.” My bluntness didn't affect him. I expected he was thinking much the same. “We can't, we have to get out of it.”

Draco nodded slowly, his eyes distant. “How-” he cleared his throat, “how are we going to stop them? You've met our fathers, right?” His voice was low and empty. I didn't say anything. “They can't be serious,” he mumbled, speaking more to himself than to me. I pulled another cigarette out of the pack and held it between my fingers, not yet lighting it, appreciating the the contrast of its stark white paper against my matte black painted fingernails. “Green is your colour.” Malfoy's quiet voice broke me out of my daze. His gaze on me hadn't faltered.

I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Don't get used to seeing me in it.” I lit the cigarette and took a couple of puffs. “There's more important things this year than my father's stupid plan to marry me off.”

“You're telling me.”

I looked at the blonde boy, intrigued. “What's so important to you?”

“School.”

“Bullshit, you hate Hogwarts.” He shrugged, his jaw set in defiance. “What's so important to a Malfoy?” His shoulders twitched again. “Does it have anything to do with your father? Is it why he isn't here tonight?” This seemed to irritate him; he cleared his throat and looked away from me. “It does. What about the Death-Eaters?” That did it.

“You have no clue what you're talking about, Rookwood.” His eyes were cold when he snapped his head to stare me down. “Don't you dare go there.” He stood from the bench and started towards the door leading back into the kitchen.

“Malfoy, wait!” I stubbed out my cigarette and let it fall to the floor. I stood up and followed him, pulling on the sleeve of his blazer once we were inside.

He pulled away from me harshly, nearly making me lose my balance. “Look, what I or my father do is none of your business.” He took a few more steps towards the door leading back to the main hall before facing me once more. “And you can tell Potter that, too.”

“Kensi!” My father pushed past Draco to get through the doorway. “I've been waiting for- Kensi, what are you doing?” His voice was low, harsh, spitting my name like a dirty little secret. “Have you been smoking again?” He advanced on me and grabbed my arm so I couldn't move away. “What did I tell you?” He shook me and I cried out.

“Father, please, I-” He let go of my arm, but pushed me backwards as he did so and I lost my balance, hitting my back on the counter edge as I fell. From my place on the floor I saw Draco step towards me, his eyebrows knitted together.

My heart thudded in my chest, but before my father could come any closer, Binky and Remmy appeared between us. “S-s-sorry to bother you, Sir.” Binky's shrill voice rang out.

“You have unexpected visitors, Master.” Remmy had always been the tougher elf of the three. Binky tried her best to be brave, but even then I saw her visibly shaking. “Bunsten has them in the foyer.”

My father gave me one last glare before he left.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

“Thank you, Binky.” The small elf attempted to help me up. “You guys didn't have to do that.”

“But Miss Kensi, we have vowed to protect you,” Binky replied.

Draco stepped towards me, awkwardly reaching out as I tried to steady myself. “Rookw-”

“Don't.” I pulled my arm out of reach and stepped backwards. I picked my bag up from the floor and straightened out my dress. Draco was looking at me cautiously, hand twitching at his side. “You know what it's like,” I spat in an angry whisper, and he looked shamefully to the floor, “And you did nothing.” I waited for a response. Nothing.

I pushed my way past him. “My father is in Azkaban!” His sudden outburst stopped me in my tracks. For a moment there was nothing but the subtle sounds of music and chatter in the distance. “I-”

I walked away before he could say anything else.

~oOo~

I had the intention of running straight to my room to sulk, since there was no way my father would let me out of the house before my return to Hogwarts, but I heard a familiar voice down the corridor. “Sorry Sir, but we are not leaving without her.” _It can't be._ My walk quickened to a jog, the quick clicking of my heels echoing around me. _They can't be serious._

I swung the doors open to the front hall and found myself breaking out into a grin as I came face to face with a pair of ginger twins. “Fred! George!”

“Hello, love,” they said in unison as they returned matching smiles. I ran into their arms, ignoring my father who seemed to be trying to get my attention. George said, “Harry thought you might want picking up a little earlier.”

“Thank you,” I whispered as I embraced them both. Once they released their hold on me, I finally turned to my father. “I'm leaving tonight,” I told him, faking as much confidence as I could bear. I could pretend all I wanted, but he still scared me.

“I had rules and you did not adhere to them.” He shook his head, taking a heavy step closer to the three of us. “I will take you to Kings Cross come Monday.”

I opened my mouth to argue a response, but Bunsten appeared before I could. “Miss Rookwood is leaving?”

“Yes,” I answered before my father could say otherwise. “Yes, I am, Bunsten.”

He bowed his head to me, “Your bags are already in the Masters' car.” My heart filled with gratitude for the elf; he had always looked after me so well, but this time he had done so knowing full well he would receive punishment for his actions.

“Thank you, Bunny.”

“It has been an honour, Miss Rookwood.” He smiled proudly at me, and the finality in his tone caused my eyes to well up. He knew there would be no returning for me if I walked out on my father after this mess.

“Stupid elf.” My father hissed, his fists balled.

Before he could do anything else, Fred grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the front door. “New car?” I asked as he opened the door of the shiny new black Saab. He simply winked in reply. I gave the house one last look before I climbed into the car. The last thing I saw as we flew off was Draco solemnly watching me leave.

The flight to the Burrow took a little over two hours. The twins had spent the first half of the journey telling me all about the grand opening of their joke shop in Diagon Alley. I was so sad I couldn't be there, but they assured me they'd have a long and successful career and so could visit the establishment whenever I liked. I had missed them in the last weeks of my fifth school year, but they had always been much too big for even a school as grand as Hogwarts to contain them. I smiled whenever I caught Fred checking on me in the rearview mirror. “Eyes on the road, Weasley,” I'd told him the first time, but it didn't stop his protective nature.

I slept for the last forty minutes or so, and George gently shook me awake once we arrived. “Come on, love, we're home.” He helped me out of the car, where I was greeted by face full of bushy hair and arms around my neck.

“Oof, good to see you, too, 'Mione.” I chuckled and returned the embrace. She let me go and I saw Harry, Ron, and Ginny standing by, too. “Hello, guys.” I grinned at them, and Harry came to me for a hug. “You worried me, Harry.” I whispered to him.

“I'm sorry, Kensi,” he smiled sheepishly, “there's been a lot happening. You look lovely, by the way.”

I laughed. “I can't wait to get out of it. Let me go and change, then you can tell me everything.”

Hermione took me to a guest room, which we would both be sharing, followed by George who dropped off my trunk. She sat on one of the beds as I pulled out a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt. “Harry told us you had some kind of event this evening, how was it?” Hermione queried as I turned around to strip off my dress.

“Awful.” I replied. I pulled on my nightwear before speaking again. “Bloody Malfoys.”

Hermione handed me a pack of make-up wipes and asked, “Did you hear about Lucius?”

“Yeah, Draco told me tonight,” I answered quietly. There was a knock at the door. “Come in!” I called out, and the door opened to reveal Harry and Ron. They entered and sat on the bed opposite. “Harry, why didn't you write me back?” I asked as I cleansed my face.

“I'm really sorry, Kensi, I was just worried about your father or someone else finding it,” he explained and I dropped the wet wipe into the bin next to the bed. “Things aren't the same any more, you know that.” I nodded and bit my lip. He was right. I should tell him about the proposal, they're my friends. I had to tell them at some point. I opened my mouth, but Harry pressed on, “We saw Draco in Knockturn Alley.” I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at him. _Oh?_ “He was looking suspicious.”

“He's a Malfoy,” I replied, “he's always suspicious.”

“This was different.” He looked from Hermione, to Ron, back to me. “He's-”

“Harry, don't.” Hermione gave him a stern look, whereas Ron looked at his best friend with bewilderment.

“What?” Ron and I asked in unison.

“Don't you see, it was a ceremony. An _initiation_.”

“Don't be daft, I know where you're going with this.” Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

“Guys, what are you on about?” I asked with furrowed eyebrows, looking between her and Harry.

“He's a Death Eater,” he answered plainly.

I froze. “You're barking,” Ron exclaimed, “what would You-Know-Who want with a sod like Malfoy?”

I ran a hand down my face and let out a long sigh. “So what's he doing in Borgin and Burkes?” Harry huffed a sarcastic laugh. “Browsing for furniture?”

“He was in Borgin and Burkes?” I asked. Harry nodded. “Creepy shop, creepy guy,” I mumbled, just loud enough for them to hear.

“His father is one,” Harry reasoned, “it just makes sense, doesn't it?” Silence fell across the room as everyone contemplated. It did make sense. His father being imprisoned, his recent gloomier-than-usual attitude. He was taking his father's place.

The tension was thick in the air before I broke the quietness, “I think I would really like some sleep now.” Hermione agreed and the boys stood, mumbling their goodnights. “We'll talk tomorrow.”

The door closed behind them and Hermione and I got into our beds. “I don't know what I saw,” Hermione's quiet voice broke the silence once she had settled down and drawn the cover up to her chest, “it could have been anything.”

I let down my hair, climbed into bed, and turned to blew out the candles.

~oOo~

The next morning, I woke early. It was still mostly dark out, but I was wide awake. I stayed in bed for a few moments, staring at the ceiling. _Could Draco really be a Death-Eater?_ He did say he had important things to do this year, is that what he meant?

The handwritten letter flashed through my mind once more, and my mouth was suddenly very dry. I sighed, rubbed my eyes, and sat up. I looked over to see Hermione's form steadily rising and falling, and I could hear her deep breaths. I walked to the door and slid on her slippers.

I made my way down to the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible. Helping myself to a glass of water, I went back into the living room. A figure sat on the sofa made me jump. “Merlin, Fred! What the bloody hell are you doing?”

The ginger boy chuckled and I sat next to him. “I'm sorry, love.” I saw he had a notebook in his lap. “Product ideas have been keeping me awake.”

I smiled as he leaned forward to place the book on the coffee table. “I see you're using the muggle pens I got you last Christmas.” He nodded and grinned at me. “You know, Fred,” I bit my lip and placed my hand on his thigh, “I'm really proud of you.” I hesitated, not making eye contact. “You and George, you've done amazing things.” He placed his hand over mine, and I looked up at his soft face. “Just like you said you would.”

Fred nodded and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Thank you for believing in me.” He cleared his throat. “Us, I mean.” I rested my head on his chest, closed my eyes, and breathed in his scent. He always smelled like warm honey and soft vanilla and it was alluring. _I miss this._ “Why did we ever stop?” He whispered, more to himself than to me, I thought.

“You know it wouldn't have worked.” I replied, and he stayed silent. “But it was good while it lasted.” I raised my head and leaned towards him. I placed a chaste kiss on his lips and pulled away to cup his cheek in my hand. After lingering for a moment, I left him completely, and sipped on my water once more.

“Are you okay?” Fred asked. “Why couldn't you sleep?” I studied the shapes the living room candles made in my glass. “Kens?” I knew I needed to tell someone, but I didn't know how. I turned my gaze to the window. The sun was beginning to rise. “Kensi?”

“Harry says he thinks Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater,” I started. I didn't know how to finish. How am I supposed to tell my ex-boyfriend that a Death Eater has arranged for my marriage to his suspected-Death Eater son?

“That wouldn't surprise me, to be honest,” Fred responded. “The slimy little git, he's probably following in his father's footste-”

“I'm to marry him.” I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for him to scream, shout, flip the table in disgust. But nothing. I slowly opened my eyes and saw Fred staring at me with soft eyes.

“Whose idea?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

I sighed. Of course he would remain calm. “Lucius Malfoy's.” I shuddered. “Father seems very on-board with the idea, something about redeeming the family name.”

Fred nodded slowly, and it was only now that I realised the implications of the engagement. Becoming a Malfoy. I couldn't. My heart started to race and my palms began to sweat. The older twin noticed and turned his body towards me. “Hey, Kensi, look,” he grabbed my hand and squeezed it reassuringly, “Lucius is in Azkaban now, right?” I nodded, not being able to form any words. “So who says you have to do what he says, when there's no way he can get to you from there?” I nodded again, slowly, thinking. He was right; how he force Draco and I into marriage from prison? “There's nothing he can do from Azkaban, so you shouldn't worry too much. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it... _If_ we get to it.”

Fred gave me hope, and I thanked him for that. He wrapped his arms around me and we watched the sun rise together.


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short chapter, I will post two tomorrow to make up for it!

Chapter Four

I sat across from Harry and Ron, with Hermione reading her textbook beside me. I watched as Ron ran his hand over the invisibility cloak. I tapped my foot on the floor of the carriage and watched as the English countryside passed by outside the train window. Hermione clearing her throat caught my attention and I looked over to see her glaring at me. I raised an eyebrow and she shot a look at my bouncing leg. “Sorry,” I whispered, and she quickly returned her eyes to the book in front of her.

I rested my head on the window, welcoming the sharp chill of the glass. I still hadn't told them about Draco and what had happened during the summer. Every time they tried prying into how I spent my holidays, I would try my hardest to divert their attention to something else. I was glad Fred hadn't said anything, but I knew he wouldn't. After everything, we had trusted each other. It was difficult this time around; leaving and knowing that he wasn't coming with me, with us. But I trusted Harry, Ron, and Hermione, too. I just didn't know how to go about talking to them about _'it'_. They had more reason to hate the Malfoys than anybody, and especially Draco.

Hermione slammed her book shut, breaking my train of thought. “For goodness _sake_ , Kensi, if you don't stop with your bloody leg, I will hex the damn thing off!” I stopped the movement I hadn't even realised I had started again and looked at her sheepishly. “Honestly, what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, 'Mione,” I said quietly as my eyes flicked to the boys' faces and back to her. “What do you mean by that?”

“I _mean_ ,” she huffed and set her book beside her, “you've been acting strangely ever since you got to the Burrow.” She looked to Harry and Ron for reassurance; they apprehensively nodded their agreement. Hermione looked back to me and continued, “What happened when the twins picked you up? George said something about Draco being there, and...?” She trailed off, looking at me expectantly.

My heart beat had quickened as my friend spoke, and my palms grew clammy with sweat. I took a deep breath and remembered Fred's words. _He can't get to you from Azkaban_. I squeezed my eyes shut and when I opened them again, I saw Harry had leaned forward with a concerned look across his face. “About a week ago, Lucius Malfoy brought Draco to our house and,” I paused and looked to Ron, who had sat up in his chair, his hand stilled on the cloak, and then back to Harry, “And h-he-” I closed my eyes, took a shuddering breath, and opened them again, “he told me Draco and I should marry.”

“You have got to be kidding.” Ron's eyes grew wide. “You have _got_ to be kidding,” He repeated.

I shook my head and Hermione said, “What do you mean? H-how can-”

“It's exactly that, Hermione,” I replied, “Father wants it, too.” I looked over to Harry, deciding he had been silent much too long. His face was red and his fists were clenched. “Harry, look, I spoke to Fred and he says-”

“You're bloody joking,” he finally said, his voice low. “There's no way that can happen,” he began to get louder, anger evidently showing, “Malfoy scum, they're fucking _Death Eaters_ , you ca-”

I leaned towards him and placed my hand over his. “I know, Harry, I know.” I leaned back and crossed my legs. “Lucius is in Azkaban so, seeing as Draco is about as thrilled with the whole thing as I am, the chances of it actually happening are rather slim.” I looked around at the three with a brave face. “Besides, there are more important things happening for both us and the Death Eaters for anyone to worry about a ludicrous arranged marriage.”

Hermione and Ron seemed to be somewhat comforted with these thoughts, but Harry still had a stern look on his face. He looked out the window and either ignored me when I tried to catch his eye, or he was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice. I looked to Ron for help, but he simply shrugged. “I can't imagine you married, any how,” Hermione said, attempting to lighten the mood, “you're much too high maintenance.”

I chuckled, “You're telling me, I can't even get a serious boyfriend.”

“Oh, I don't know about that,” Ron laughed, “you and Fred seemed pretty serious last summer.”

My face grew red as Hermione joined in his laughter. “Shut it you two, he took me to the Yule Ball in fourth year, that was it!” I hadn't spoken to them about my relationship with Fred, but evidently I hadn't needed to.

“Rubbish!” Hermione retorted, “I caught you two snogging in the library on more than one occasion.”

“And the steamy love notes you were exchanging?” Ron joined in, a smirk on his face. It was suddenly very hot in the carriage.

“They were not ' _steamy love notes_ ', I'm allowed to write letters to friends, I write to you all the time!” I reasoned.

“And what about Seamus?” Hermione grinned as they both ignored my bargaining.

“Yes!” Ron exclaimed, slapping his knee as he cackled. “He told everyone in the boys' dormitory how he made out with you under the Quidditch stands.”

“Oh Merlin,” I covered my face with my hands, “That Irish twat, I kissed him _once_!”

As we all laughed, Harry suddenly shot up from his seat. “Well, I'm glad you all think this is hilarious,” he said angrily, “but personally, I think your engagement to a Death Eater is absurd.” He grabbed the invisibility cloak from Ron's lap and moved to the door. “I need some air,” he said as he left.

I looked anxiously to Ron and Hermione. “He'll calm down,” the ginger haired boy said.

I hoped so.

~oOo~

We sat the Gryffindor table. The first years had been sorted and we were nearing the end of the feast, and still no sign from Harry. Hermione, Ginny and I kept our eyes trained on the doors of the Great Hall, whilst Ron continued to eat. Hermione's head flicked from Ron's stuffed face to me, with a furrowed brow. I shrugged in response. _Don't look at me._ She looked back to the ginger boy. Her hand moved over to the book on the bench beside her. Her jaw clenching. _Oh no_. She picked up the book and repeatedly whacked his shoulder. “Will. You. Stop. Eating!” Ginny looked at me, wide eyed. “Your best friend is missing!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Oi!” Ron held his arm. “Turn around, you lunatic!” All eyes darted back to the door, where Harry walked in, followed by Luna.

A wave of relief rushed over me. “He's covered in blood again,” Ginny said. “Why is it he's always covered in blood?”

I hadn't noticed before, but his blood splattered face was evident now. “Looks like its his own this time,” I told her, seeing him holding a tissue to his nose.

Harry took his seat between Ginny and I. “What happened, Harry?” Hermione asked in a harsh whisper.

He simply shook his head in reply. “Later. What have I missed?” He looked to me as he continued to dab the tissue across his face.

“The Sorting Hat tried to brighten things up – told us to be brave and strong in these troubled times,” I told him.

“Easy for it to say,” Ron spoke up, still eating, “it's just a hat, isn't it?” Hermione rolled her eyes and I laughed.

We turned back just to catch the tail-end of an awkward encounter between Ginny and Harry; Ginny now clutched the blood stained tissue. I cleared my throat and nudged Harry subtly, to have him nudge me back without meeting my eyes. Hermione and I shared a knowing look.

“Very best of evenings to you all,” Headmaster Dumbledore's voice interrupted our conversation, “and please join me in welcoming our newest member of staff, Horace Slughorn.” The plump man stood and gave an awkward wave from the staff table. So this was the man Dumbledore took Harry to see. “Professor Slughorn has agreed to assume his previous position as Potions Master.” As applause broke out, we all exchanged looks. _Potions?_ Then who- “Meanwhile, the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts will be taken by Professor Snape.” The Slytherin table roared in excitement, while the rest of the hall hesitantly clapped along. “Now, as you know, each and every one of you was searched upon your arrival tonight,” Dumbledore continued. “You have a right to know why.” He paused briefly. “Once there was a young man who, like you, sat in this very hall...”

The professor's voice trailed into the background of my attention as my gaze floated towards the far table. My eyes found Draco. He was slumped over the table, a full plate of food in front of him. He was spinning his wand in his hand, not bothering to pay attention to our Headmaster. As per the last two occasions I saw him, his eyes were tired and his complexion pale as ever. He must be going through a lot; despite how controlling his father was, he remained loyal to his family. That was the Pureblood way, after all. Maybe there was an ounce of truth behind Harry's speculation.

Draco stopped fidgeting with his wand, but his eyes remained on the table. Honestly, I agreed with Ron. I saw how weak Draco was; his Father was his backbone, he couldn't do anything without him. So with Lucius in Azkaban, and not getting out any time soon, what use was he to Voldemort's efforts?

“... dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle...” I closed my eyes and sighed, realising I hadn't been paying attention to Dumbledore's speech. I opened my eyes again and let out a small gasp when my gaze met silver eyes. Draco's stare was cold, blank. I clenched my jaw and swallowed hard.

Our stare down was broken by all the students standing to leave. “That was cheerful,” Ron said sarcastically. I let out a nervous laugh and stood with them. As we filed out, I took a chance to look over to the Slytherin table one last time. I couldn't see Draco.


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

A crackling log fire. Oncoming rain. Freshly baked mince pies. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes as the last scent made itself known to me. Warm honey mixed with a spicy hint of cinnamon. I took a step closer without realising, but was quickly brought back to Earth by a loud clang. I opened my eyes to see that Professor Slughorn had replaced the lid to the potion.

Katie Bell asked Slughorn a question, but a crashing realisation hit me. _Warm honey._ That smell was so familiar. It was Fred. _No, no, no._ No, it can't be.

The next thing I knew, everyone was moving to their tables. I found myself with Seamus, Dean, and a couple of Ravenclaws. They had all opened their textbooks to the recipe for Draught of the Living Death, and it all came back to me. Potions class. Felix Felicis. That's what I was doing.

Everyone else was hard at work, evidently determined to win the prize. Even Malfoy, absorbed in the potion in his cauldron, barely gave me a glance when I dropped a vial and it shattered, causing an outbreak of laughter from the other Slytherins at his table. “Shove off, Nott,” Seamus sneered, and I offered an embarrassed smile in way of thanks. I mindlessly followed the recipe as my thoughts lingered on Fred.

Our relationship had been fairly uncomplicated, although it didn't look it from the outside perspective. We had never explicitly labelled it, but we were comfortable with each other. We cared for each other, and because of this, I knew when it was time to end things. We had a great time together in my fourth year; he took me to the Yule Ball and on that night he even gave me my first kiss. And during the summer before fifth year, we sent some very flirtatious letters to each other (unfortunately, my father found one in which Fred described how much he missed the feel of his lips against mine, and from then on he stopped any letters for the rest of the summer). When we reunited at Grimmauld Place, two weeks before the start of school, we spent the majority of our time in each other's arms. Until two days before we left for King's Cross.

I had pulled him aside, and told him the importance of our forthcoming school year; not only did we both have important exams, but the formation of the Order of the Phoenix implied that big things were coming. He agreed. It was something that just felt natural. We meant a lot to each other and our ending didn't even feel like an ending. It was new beginning.

“Time is up!” Slughorn's voice sounded throughout the room. “Put down your ladles, I will make my way around the classroom and check your potions!” I sighed in defeat, looking at my deep green sludge of a mixture. Evidently I hadn't managed to create the beautifully smooth lilac liquid that was required.

At the end of the lesson, it was ultimately Harry who managed to impress Slughorn enough to win the prize of Felix Felicis. I was surprised; Harry, as gifted as he was, never quite had the aptitude for Potions as Hermione did. Looking my other friend, I saw she wasn't the happiest about the result.

Once class was dismissed, I gathered my notebooks and quill slowly, mulling over my thoughts. I'm sure the scent from the love potion was just a coincidence. I loved the smell of honey for many reasons; it reminded me of summer, of fruit, of curling up in bed with a mug of tea. I was halfway out of the door when I realised I forgot about my Potions textbook, and made my way back into the room. I saw it sat on the desk, still open on today's lesson, and picked it up. As I turned on my heel to leave once more, my body collided with another, causing the book to fall out of my grip. As it hit the floor, the envelope slid out, the wax 'V' showing itself.

I panicked, realising I had forgotten all about the note, my mind being too preoccupied with thoughts of unwanted marriage, and classes, and Dumbledore's general enigma. I fell to my knees to retrieve it and a snide remark met my ears as I did. “Love note from Potter, is it?” I snapped my head up to find myself in front of Draco Malfoy. “Or is it one of those Weasley boys?” I rolled my eyes and rose to my feet once more. “I can't tell the difference between those gingers, which one are you onto now?”

“Are you quite finished?” I snapped as I pushed my way past him and out into the corridor. I watched as two girls turned the corner down one end of the hall and realised we were now alone. “I don't know what crawled up your ass and died, but I would like to make it to lunch.”

“What? Am I not good enough for you now, Rookwood?” I spun around to see him no more than four steps behind me. Why was he so damn irritating? “Are you too high and mighty for me now? No more cigarette sharing?”

“Oh, fuck off, Malfoy!” I took a step towards him, my blood boiling and my face red with anger. My outburst caused him to stutter, but I couldn't stop myself from yelling over him, “I took _pity_ on you! That's right, I shared that cigarette with you simply because felt fucking _sorry_ for you. Believe it or not, we are in the same damn boat. But, guess what? This marriage is not happening. Your father isn't around any more, so who is going to enforce this farce of an engagement?” He remained quiet, his stare cold and hard. “Exactly. So for the remainder of this year, can you back the bloody hell off and move on. It's over.”

~oOo~

It had been a few days since my encounter with Draco. Whenever I saw him in the halls or in class, he avoided my gaze, his usual glum facial expression set firmly in place. I had even received comments from Hermione and Ron, asking what I did to upset him so and how could they do the same. “I just told him to get lost.” I shrugged, using my fork to scrape the food about my plate. “Afraid to say I don't make such a great fiancée,” I said in a whisper with a small smile.

“Oh, Kensi,” Hermione lifted up the copy of _The Daily Prophet_ she was reading and handed me an envelope from the table in front of her, “this came for you earlier.”

My heart pounded as I saw a familiar burgundy coloured wax. I breathed a sigh of relief when I picked up the letter and saw the Weasley family seal instead of the single 'V' I was dreading. I opened it and scanned the letter, my eyes reaching the bottom and reading the signage, _Fred_. I smiled as a warm comfort filled my chest. I cleared my throat upon making eye contact with Hermione, who had an eyebrow cocked and was looking at me expectantly. “It's just from Fred, I'll read it later.”

“What, are you two back at it?” Ron asked with a laugh, bringing a chuckle out of Harry, too.

“No!” I refused, despite my face heating up at thoughts of our last time together; head on his chest on the sofa of the Burrow, inhaling his scent. His scent. The thought of Slughorn's lesson made my mouth go dry. “Anyway,” I desperately wanted to change the subject; the thought of me possibly being in love with my ex-boyfriend proving too much to handle, “how are your lessons with Professor Dumbledore going?” I asked Harry, who shrugged in response.

“Okay, I suppose.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin before continuing. “He's teaching me more about Voldemort, his past, his family.”

I nodded along, and Hermione pointed out, “Well, it does make sense, doesn't it? If we can find out as much as possible about him, we will find a way to defeat him.”

“And Dumbledore thinks Slughorn might be the key to that, as well?” I asked.

Harry shrugged. “I don't know, Dumbledore hasn't told me anything else concerning him, just to get close to him.”

Behind Harry, I saw Draco enter the hall with Blaise. For the first time in a while, he seemed to be managing a laugh, aside from the sarcastic one he gave me that day in the Potions classroom. The thought reminded me once again of the letter from V. I still hadn't told anyone about it; I didn't want to cause them unnecessary worry. I also wanted some time to try and figure it out myself, despite not having much to go on. However, with all of the schoolwork piling up, including our new lessons on non-verbal spell casting, I hadn't found the time.

“Kensi, are you listening?” Hermione's voice pulled my attention away from where my gaze had settled on the Slytherin table. I offered a grunt in response. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” I nodded, mustering up a smile, “I'm sorry, what were you saying?”

“Hagrid,” Ron replied, “we're going to see him after tryouts.”

“That's even we even get through everyone,” Harry huffed.

Hermione laughed. “Well, since you're the Chosen One now, you've gotten a lot more popular,” I scoffed at her statement, “and much more fanciable.”

Ron joked on his drink as Harry's face went bright red. “Merlin, 'Mione!” He exclaimed after recovering.

Hermione simply shrugged in reply, before asking me, “Won't you come with us to visit Hagrid?”

I shook my head. “I've got Herbology work, and I see enough of him in class.” I offered a mischievous grin.

“Kens, Herbology is your strongest subject,” Harry encouraged, “what could you possibly be struggling with?”

“It is, but after Hannah's situation in class the other day,” everyone's face dropped and they nodded solemnly, “I missed some stuff.” There were a few moments of sad silence. Hannah Abbott's mother had been killed just a few days prior, meaning Hannah had been pulled from school in the middle of our Herbology class. Afterwards, it was all anyone could think and talk about.

I cleared my throat before rising from my seat. “Well, I best be off,” I bent to give Hermione a quick hug in her seat and departed with a final, “good luck in tryouts!”


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

I had set myself in an empty area of the library, with the textbook _Flesh-Eating Trees of the World_ open on the relevant page on Snargaluffs. I hadn't managed to get very far in my reading of the section, when I found V's note in my hands once more. I always kept it close to me, in my bag, not wanting a repeat of the near miss with Malfoy in Potions. I turned it over in my hands once, twice, thrice, waiting for something new and unexpected to jump out at me.

I realised then, after handling it straight after the parchment of my essay in front of me, that it was a different type of paper. I examined the edges and found that, although the bottom was cut off by a near-clean rip, there was something there. I couldn't make it out, and studied the other sides, too. It seemed to have been ripped out of a book, since the left hand side and the bottom were the only sides ripped; the other two were clean cuts, albeit rather worn.

But, what book?

I set the note back down and looked back to my work. At least I found a clue, no matter how vague. I heard movement from further down the bench and looked up to see Blaise Zabini settling in a seat and opening his book. It isn't until he had dipped his quill in ink that he looks up to finally realise who he is sat with. He let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. _Charming._

“Calm down, Zabini,” I didn't want to move seats and didn't want to argue, “I'm just studying, too.” He simply grunted in reply and looked back down to his work.

We worked in silence, except for the scratching of the quill and rustle of parchment, for what felt like over an hour. The silence was broken by Zabini's frustrated groan and the slam of his book closing. He looked so wrung out with his head in his hands. I almost felt sorry for him.

I opened my mouth to ask if he needed help, but voices approaching stopped me. Blaise looked up and smiled as his friends, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott, and of course, Draco Malfoy, appeared at his side. Nott was the first to speak, “We're heading down for an early lunch, maybe watch the Gryffindorks awful excuse for Quidditch tryouts on the way, you coming?”

Blaise shook his head, “I'll catch up with you later, I'm nearly finished with this.” He gestured to his work, and they complained, but accepted his excuse.

Parkinson looked over to me with a sneer. “Oh, look who it is, the blood traitor,” Draco met my eyes, but his stare was cold, “surprised you're not following your boyfriend around.”

“Which one?” Nott's remark made the both of them laugh as they walked away.

Draco hesitated for a moment, but gave Blaise a smile and followed the other two out. I clenched my jaw as my eyes stayed on his back. “Not going to follow your dear fiancé, Rookwood?” Zabini raised his eyebrows at me.

I sighed as my glare moved onto him. Of course he knew. “You, too?” His response was a smirk. “Who else knows?”

“Just me,” he shifted in his chair, facing me now, “Narcissa is waiting for your engagement party to announce it to everyone.” I groaned and looked away from him, not wanting to give into the bait. I moved some of my papers, trying to make myself busy and ignore how the boy's stare was still on me. “Is that a love letter to him then?” I saw him nodding towards the letter from V and immediately put it under my textbook, still not responding. “Aww, shouldn't you be studying instead of fawning over our dear Dra-”

_Snap._ “At least I am actually going to pass my N.E.W.Ts!” I exclaimed, having had enough of his teasing. “At least I'm not so damn thick that I can't understand the basics of Leaping Toadstools!” My outburst seemed to have struck a nerve with him, and he turned back to his papers with gritted teeth. I let out a breath, happy to have some peace and quiet once again.

Another twenty minutes passed before Zabini started getting agitated again. I heard him muttering under his breath, “Venomous Tem- Ten- Tentacular,” and I realised he was making notes on what we covered at the very start of the year. He must be seriously behind. “Ch-” He huffed in frustration once more.

“Chizpurfle,” I commented and, after receiving a confused look, I expanded, “they're like these little crabs, they're considered pests.” He nodded in understanding. “The Tentacular eat them and spit out their carapaces.” He nodded once more and started scribbling things down. That seemed to satisfy him for the time being, and I hoped it would mean he'd go a bit easier on me in general. I had enough to worry about without Malfoy and his stupid Slytherin friends pestering me at every possible moment. My hopes were high when, upon packing my things and standing to leave, Zabini gave me a curt nod on my way out.

~oOo~

_Dear Kensi,_

_I hope you are keeping well, how are your studies going? Business is going well here. George and I have plans to acquire Zonko's in Hogsmeade once we've saved enough, but that's a while away yet, we've only just started talking about it. It's something to work towards. I wanted to thank you for your support once again. It means a lot._

_I also wanted to ask how things have been regarding the Malfoy situation. I hope it's not giving you too much trouble. I'm always here, if you need to talk._

_I miss you, Kens. I can't wait for you to come back to me for Christmas._

_Fred_

I read over the letter for the fourth time, my heart pounding in my chest. It suddenly felt too hot to be sat next to the common room fireplace. I shifted in my seat finally picked up my pen notebook, writing out my response;

_Fred,_

_School is tough this year, I barely have a grasp on my nonverbal spells and DADA is tense with Snape in charge now. But I'm getting on as best as I can._

_Zonko's sounds amazing! When your business expands, you'll definitely need to hire employees. Give me a shout and I'll help wherever I can. We all need something to look forward to._

_I've told Harry, Ron, and Hermione about it. Harry reacted about as well as we could have expected him to, but in the end they all agreed with you. I think I can push it to the back of my mind for now._

_See you at Christmas, Frederick, and send my love to your family,_

_Missing you, too,_

_Kens_

I folded the paper after ripping it from my book and placed it in an envelope. After writing Fred's name on the front, I slipped it into my bag to send off later.

  
“He's got a thing for you, Hermione,” Ron was saying.

I had been listening to parts of their conversation enough to jump in, “Cormac McLaggen?” Ron nodded and I shrugged, “I mean, he's fairly attractive.”

“He's vile,” Hermione snapped, not looking up from her book. “Anyway, Kensi, did you get on okay with your Herbology work?”

I nodded, “I got there in the end, thankfully,” Hermione smiled at me, “I guess you're right, Herbology is my strong suit.”

Harry looked up to agree with me, “If it wasn't for you, Kens, I would have been out of luck in the second trial of the tournament.”

“I suppose,” Harry's attention immediately went back to his Potions textbook, “but that was down to a Death Eater in the end.” He didn't respond as he didn't seem to be listening. He seemed a lot more distracted since coming across that old book. I looked to Ron for support, but he gave me a dismissive look. “And how was Hagrid?”

“Awful,” Ron replied, “he wouldn't stop blubbering over that disgusting creature.”

I gave him a puzzled look and Hermione interjected, “Aragog is sick and he's struggling to visit him because his children are hostile-”

“Because they're waiting for him to die so they can _eat_ him!” Ron exclaimed, a look of revulsion on his face, and then reiterated, “It's _disgusting_.”

I huffed a laugh, “It's arachnids for you.” I looked to Harry, who had been quiet, engrossed in his book, through the whole conversation.

It isn't until he comes across something he deems interesting enough to share, that he looks over to Hermione. “Have you ever heard of the spell _Sectumsempra_?” He asked, showing her a page.

Hermione's head snapped toward him, “No, I haven't, and if you had a shred of self respect, you would hand that book in!”

“Not bloody likely,” Ron scoffed, “he's top of the class. He's even better than you, Hermione.”

Harry and I winced, Ron seemingly oblivious to the rouse he got out of her. Her eyes narrow as she says, “I'd like to know whose book that was.” Harry hid the book behind him as Hermione reached forward. “Let's have a look, shall we?” Hermione stood as Harry did also, advancing on him as he backed away from her, shaking his head. “Why not?” I raised an eyebrow as I watched the antics unfold, my eyes meeting Ginny's from across the room. The smile that played at her lips told me she was being cunning. Again.

“The binding is fragile,” Harry lied through his teeth. He took another step away from Hermione and, unknowingly, closer to Ginny.

She took the book from his hands and opened it. “Who's the Half-Blood Prince?” Hermione gave her a questioning look. “That's what it says right here. _This book is property of the Half-Blood Prince._ ” Harry took the book from her and sulked off to his room, leaving everyone confused in his wake.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Leanne doesn't have an official surname, I made it "Spinks"

Chapter Seven

A couple of weeks passed and nobody spoke of the common room incident, besides snide remarks over Harry's newfound obsession with Potions. Hermione wasn't one to give up easily, however, and after some persuading, I accompanied her to the library in her quest to discover more about this Half-Blood Prince. There was no reference to him anywhere to be found.

It was a stormy mid-October day when we told the boys this as we walked through Hogsmeade. “That settles it then,” Harry tried to argue, and before Hermione could protest, his attention was diverted to Professor Slughorn further down the road. “Anyone fancy a butterbeer?” He asked, overhearing that the man was on his way to the Three Broomsticks. I agreed, as I was supposed to catch up with my friends, Katie Bell and Leanne Spinks, there anyway.

At the pub, we had been served our drinks and Harry had been trying to catch Slughorn's eye. “Harry, my boy!” His slightly slurred voice resonated once he came to our table. Harry stood to shake his head. They made small talk, before the Professor announced, “In the old days, I used to throw together the occasional supper party. Would you be game?”

“I'd consider it an honour, Sir,” Harry replied with a forced grin.

“You'd be welcome, too,” he looked to Hermione, and then to me.

I grimaced. _Fantastic, more formal events._ “I'd be delighted, Sir,” Hermione told him and I nodded along.

“Splendid!” Slughorn replied, “Look for my owl!” We said our goodbyes, and he departed.

“So,” I broke the silence, “making progress?”

Harry shrugged. “First time I've spoken to him out of class. But if it's important to Dumbledore...” He trailed off.

I took a long sip of my drink while I pondered. Speaking of important things. “I have something to tell you guys.”

“I swear to Merlin, if you tell us you're engaged to another Slytherin prat, I'm done.” Ron glared at me over his butterbeer.

I chuckled. “No, no, nothing like that.” I cleared my throat and took another sip of my drink before saying, “The night that the Malfoys came to our house and announced our engagement, I found this note on my desk in my room,” I pulled out the letter from my bag, and unfolded the paper. “ _Be wary with the Malfoy boy. You will betray The Order._ ” I recited before handing it to Hermione.

“Wait, what,” Harry took it from Hermione, “and you kept this from us?”

I winced. “I know, Harry, I know. I'm sorry.”

“It looks like it's been taken from a book,” Hermione scrunched up her nose in disgust.

“I think it's an ISBN at the bottom, but I can't even begin to make out what it's supposed to be. Even if I could identify the book, it could be meaningless.”

There were a few moments of silence before Harry whispered, “I can't believe you didn't tell us.”

“Harry, I-” Hermione rose from her seat, pulling Ron up with her, announcing they were going to the bar to get more drinks. “I really am sorry, but I wanted to try and figure out what it was about before worrying you.”

“I think it's pretty clear what it's about,” he said, bluntly, “Draco is dangerous.”

“Not right now, I've barely seen him the past few weeks-”

“And don't you think there's a reason for that?” Harry huffed in annoyance. “He's planning something! This isn't the time to be keeping secrets, Kens, this is serious. The Malfoys are trying to get to you, for whatever reason, and this is a warning.”

I threw my head back in frustration and let out a groan. “Harry, it's not going to happen, Lucius is-”

“I can't risk it! You're family, Kens, some of the only family I have and I can't... I won't lose you to them.”

I sighed, placing my hands in his on the table. “If you really think I'm going to leave you to marry a Malfoy, I'm honestly kind of insulted.”

“You know that's not what I mean, Kensi.”

“I know, Harry, but trust me. I'm going to be with you guys through everything, I promise. I'm not leaving your side.” Harry nodded as I smiled at him, glad to have calmed him at last. “And Draco is avoiding me like the plague at the moment, so I don't think I have anything to worry about. We can talk to the Order about this over Christmas, or if anything else happens I will immediately go to Dumbledore, okay?”

Satisfied with my bargaining, Harry agreed with a nod as Hermione and Ron made their way back over, drinks in hand.

~oOo~

Leanne waved at me as I watched Katie return from the toilets. I nodded and stood, “Well, looks like I'm off,” I told the others.

  
“It's okay,” Harry stood, too, “we should get going as well.”

I caught up with the girls as they exited the pub and walked up the street. They were having a quiet argument. “What's wrong?”

“She's not listening,” Leanne told me, “she got this parcel and-”

“Parcel? From where?” I held onto Katie's arm as she unwrapped it. “Wait-”

“Katie, don't-”

Upon touching the necklace, Katie was lifted into the air. Leanne screamed. My hands flew to my mouth in shock. As she floated, suspended in nothingness, I heard footsteps approaching. “Kens-” Before Hermione could say anything else, Katie's jaw dropped open and a shrill scream left her mouth. She sounded like she was in agony. And then she dropped to the floor once more, motionless on the ground.

“Don't get any closer!” Hagrid jogged up to us, and I thanked Merlin he was there. He reached down to pick Katie up and turned to see Harry crouching down over the package. “Do not touch that, except for the wrappings,” I hadn't heard Hagrid's voice full of such authority before, “do you understand?”

~oOo~

“It's from Borgin and Burkes,” Harry told us as we sat outside the open doors to Professor McGonagall's office, “the necklace, I've seen it before. He must have, too.” We gave him questioning looks before realisation set in. “Malfoy, he-”

“Harry, stop it!” I stopped him just as Leanne exited the doorway and walked past us, head down. “Not here.”

“Enter!” We made our way into the office, coming face-to-face with McGonagall and Professor Snape. The necklace is floating in front of us, suspended by Snape's Levitation Charm.

“Ms Bell is lucky to be alive,” he drawled.

“She was cursed, wasn't she?” Harry asked. “I know Katie, off the Quidditch pitch, she wouldn't hurt a fly.”

“She said Katie wanted to give it to Dumbledore,” I said, remembering what Leanne had said on the way back to the castle.

“Yes,” McGonagall's face was filled with worry, “she was cursed.”

“It was Malfoy.” Harry stated. Ron, Hermione, and I looked at him ludicrously.

“That is a very serious accusation, Potter,” McGonagall told him sternly.

“Indeed,” Snape's eyes narrowed on him, “your evidence?”

Harry paused. “I just know.” I closed my eyes and shook my head. I knew that, one day, his insistence would get him into trouble.

“You _just_... know?” Snape's expression remained the same. “Once again-”

“That's all well and good,” McGonagall interjected, “but Mr Malfoy could not have cursed Ms Bell at the Three Broomsticks,” Harry opened his mouth to retort, but she raised her voice to speak over him, “because he was in detention with me and therefore was not allowed to go to Hogsmeade this time.” A silence fell over us. Maybe Harry was wrong about everything. Maybe he would let it go now. “I suggest you all go back to your dormitories.”

We quietly made our way out and headed to our common room. “It was a pretty crap attempt,” Ron said after ten minutes of silence, “how did they expect it to reach Dumbledore, if the aim really was to- to kill him?”

Hermione hummed in agreement. “It wasn't very well thought out.”

Harry spoke up, “Since when has Malfoy been one of the world's greatest thinkers?”

No one responded. Maybe he won't let it go.


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

“And how is _your_ father, Ms Rookwood?” Slughorn looked at me with gentle curiosity in his eyes.

Suddenly my dress felt all too constricting across my chest. “He- he's fine, Sir,” I managed to croak out, “occupied with his business ventures at the moment, I- I think.” Noticing my discomfort, Hermione rested her leg against mine.

“Correct me if I am wrong,” Slughorn barrelled onwards, “but wasn't your father the one who donated Mandrakes from his personal collection to the school which were ultimately used in helping the victims of the basilisk?” I nodded with a tight smile. “And he even helped concoct the cure?”

I nodded once more, “Yep, that's him.”

“Delightful!” Slughorn gave a laugh, “Such a generous,” I clenched my jaw, “thoughtful,” I took a deep breath, “kind,” tears sprung to my eyes as my gaze fell upon Blaise, “man!”

I forced a smile, “Yes, Sir,” I thought I saw the corner of Zabini's mouth downturn, but perhaps it was just my imagination. I tore my eyes away to look to Harry, sat on the other side of me, who gave me a comforting smile.

“And that is where you get your passion for Herbology, is it?” Slughorn pressed on. “Professor Sprout has told me all about your expertise.”

“Yes, Sir,” I told him, “when I was young I practically grew up in our greenhouses, always helping my father. Less so much now...”

The sound of the door opening distracted everyone, signalling the late arrival of Ginny. “I'm sorry,” she approached the table, giving everyone a look at her swollen and red eyes, and Harry stood from his seat, “I'm not usually late.”

Harry hesitated and sat back down once Ginny had also settled. Hermione nudged me with a giggle and I grinned at the awkward encounter. Oh, I couldn't wait to tease him about it. I looked over to Hermione to see her cringing in McLaggen's general direction. He had a raised eyebrow, a smirk at his lips which were closed around his middle finger. I couldn't help the snort I made in response.

~oOo~

“Please don't let me spend another second in his company,” Hermione pulled Ginny and I away from the room and down the corridor.

“What?” I laughed. “You mean to say you don't want any more of McLaggen undressing you with his eyes?” I wiggled my eyebrows in her direction, bringing a laugh out of Ginny.

“Oh, shut it, you.” Hermione huffed. “Anyway,” as we walked through the empty halls, the sound of our heels clicking echoed, “are you okay, Ginny?” Her voice was softer.

Ginny's lips upturned slightly, mustering a smile. “I guess,” we gave her a moment to expand, “Dean and I have just been fighting recently. Fighting a lot.”

“Why?” I asked her.

“He's so overprotective,” she explained, sighing, “with Quidditch and all. I shouted at him for being sexist, he told me he just cares, I told him he's a big hypocrite since he's on the team as well...” She trailed off as we reached the Fat Lady. “Things are just tough at the moment.” I nodded in agreement.

~oOo~

I made my way through the doorway of the Great Hall, brushing past Blaise as I went. “Sorry,” I said quietly as he raised an eyebrow in my direction. “How are you getting on with Herbology now?” I wasn't entirely sure if I should make an effort to be civil, but I had committed anyway.

“I'm fine,” he snapped back. What else did I expect?

“Okay, whatever.” I huffed and made to carry on walking before his voice stopped me again.

“I guess you heard Draco left the Quidditch team. It's a shame you won't get to see your dearly beloved fiancé play today.”

“He is not my fiancé,” I retorted in a harsh whisper, “Lucius is in Azkaban, it's over before it even began.”

“You don't get it, do you?” He huffed a humourless laugh. “No matter what, _he_ always comes out on top, _he_ always gets what he wants.” I had a feeling he wasn't talking about Draco's father any more, especially considering the badly disguised fear in his eyes. “If he says you and Draco are to marry, then you will.”

“Will you keep your damn voice down!” I berated him. “If a single one of these ghosts hears, everyone will know.” I groaned at his dismissive eye-roll. “What is it with you damn Slytherins and your incessant need to use insults as a poor defence for your own stupid insecurities?”

Blaise advanced on me. “You don't know a damn thing about me, Rookwood.” He spun on his heel and carried on his way.

I watched his retreating back before resuming my journey to the Gryffindor table, taking my seat between Harry and Hermione. I slammed my bag down in anger as I heard the tail-end of Harry and Ron's conversation, “ -McLaggen can have my spot.”

“Are you okay, Kensi?” Hermione looked at me nervously.

“Mmm, fine, just a very pleasant conversation with Zabini,” I said sarcastically. “Anyway, what's going on with you, Ron?”

“I'm resigning.” He said defiantly, and I finally took in his rather green complexion.

“Have it your way,” Harry replied to him, handing him a cup of juice.

At that moment, Luna turned around in her seat next to Ron, showing her lion mascot head in all of its glory. “You look dreadful, Ron.” My, did I love her unceremonious comments. “Is that why you put something in his cup?”

A small gasp escaped Hermione's mouth as I look to Harry's smug smile. “Liquid Luck.” She thought aloud. “Don't drink it, Ron!” She exclaimed, rather responsibly, yet all I could do was cover my mouth as a laugh escaped. “Kensi, don't-” It was too late; Ron chugged the drink as a grin replaced his nervous expression. “You could be expelled for that.” Hermione's face was stern, and Harry simply shrugged nonchalantly in response.

“Come on, Harry,” Ron stood from the bench, his newfound confidence exuding from his body, “we've got a game to win.”

~oOo~

Apparently, the win was a great one. Ron performed brilliantly, especially more so considering Harry divulged he had not, in fact, spiked the redhead's drink. And when Lavender Brown threw herself at the match's MVP, Hermione's face fell and she fled. My heart hurt for her. I made to go after her, but Harry pulled me back and followed instead. I thought it was for the best anyway; they were both in the same position after all, he could understand her.

I threw myself onto the sofa between Seamus and some fourth year I had seen around before. “How's it goin', Kens?” The Irishman asked me.

“Not bad,” I shrugged, sipping my drink in hand, “we haven't caught up much this year, have we?”

Seamus laughed, “No, and it's a shame you didn't want to meet me under the Quidditch stands during the game,” I laughed and rolled my eyes at him, “didn't fancy a repeat of last year?”

“Absolutely not,” I responded.

“So, I hear Slughorn's having a Christmas do,” he continued, seemingly ignoring my response, “maybe we could talk more about it then?”

I playfully hit his shoulder. “Get out of here.”


	10. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been away for a while, not quite been myself and dealing with some health issues, but I'm getting back into writing so here is another chapter :)

Chapter Nine

“Oh, Merlin,” I turned my nose up at the couple snogging in the common room armchair, “I seriously hope that's not what Fred and I were like.”

Harry laughed as I walked with him out of the common room, away from Ron and Lavender. “No, actually I think you were quite modest,” he assured me, “you at least made the effort to be in private.”

“Thank you for the reassurance.”

“Actually, what is going on with you and Fred?”

I hesitated. “Nothing, really,” I laughed a little, “it's over for us, we both feel better that way.”

“But,” Harry was being cautious, “do you still have feelings for him?”

I waited. I thought about telling him about what I smelled during Slughorn's first lesson. I turned to him with a half shrug. He nodded and said, “I see.” There were a few moments of silence as we made our way through the crowds of students. “I'm glad I have you through this,” Harry told me when we were through the worst of it, “I don't know how I would get through this, this thing with Ron and Hermione, if it weren't for you.”

I smiled happily at him and said, “You know, you have Ginny, too.” There was silence. “You can always talk to her about them.” More silence. “How is it, with both her and Dean on the team? I know it must be tough-”  
  


“It's fine.” There was an edge to his voice and I knew I had pushed it. His words were softer when he spoke again, “It's fine. It is what it is.”

I didn't mention it again and we found seats at the Gryffindor table, no Hermione in sight. “She must have already gone to the library.”

Harry nodded and took a breath. “So.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “So?”

“Slughorn's Christmas party.” I nodded slowly, waiting for an explanation. “Well, I asked Hermione if she would go with me, but she said she's already made plans.” And she didn't even tell me? “So, why don't _we_ go together?”

I grinned at him. “What, am I just the next vulnerable, lonely girl on your list, Mr Potter?”

“Yes, as a matter-of-fact, if you say no,” he pulled a blank piece of parchment from his bag and pretended to scan it, “Millicent Bulstrode is next, and I'd rather not have to ask her, so...” He folded his hands in front of him as I rolled my eyes. “Although I can't promise I'll be as exciting of a date as Fred, what do you say?” I pretended to think for a moment, humming and tapping my chin. “Unless you were planning to bring Seamus?”

I leaned over the table and gave a loving slap over his head. “Shut your gob.”

~oOo~

“I can't believe you said that, Ginny,” Hermione threw herself onto the bed.

“I'm sorry! I didn't mean to tell the whole common room you snogged Viktor Krum.” The giggle that escaped her mouth afterwards hinted she wasn't sorry at all. “Ron is just doing my head in at the moment, and I think he already knew about it anyway.”

  
“What does that matter?” Hermione passed me the latest issue of Witch Weekly.

“You both really are as dense as each other, aren't you?” Hermione's shouts of offence meant nothing to Ginny as she carried on, “You know he only got with Lavender in the first place to make you jealous, don't you?”

Hermione flushed red. “Don't be absurd! Besides, even if that was his original idea, this has taken it a bit far, don't you think?”

“That's just because he's a boy and he's thick,” I said bluntly.

“Well, McLaggen should annoy him more than Krum at this point.”

“What!?” Ginny and I exclaimed.

Hermione cringed. “You're taking McLaggen to Slughorn's party?” I threw the magazine down to look at her ludicrously. “Are you that desperate to get back at Ron?”

“Shush, I would have just taken Harry if I could actually think straight at the moment,” Hermione sighed, “but I'm glad he's going with you and not Romilda Vane.” I chuckled and nodded. “Although I know, for you, no one will compare to Fred.” Hermione and Ginny laughed and I groaned, my head in my hands.

“Please, no more.”

“What's going on? I saw that smile when you read his letter from before.” Hermione raised her eyebrows at me.

“I don't want to hear anything dirty about my brother, please.” Ginny shook her head.

“No, no, nothing like that!” I protested. “It's just...” I hesitated. “Hermione, do you remember Slughorn's first lesson, with Amortentia?” She gave me a thin smile and nodded. “One of the things I could smell was... honey.” They waited for a further explanation. “It- It reminded me of- of-”

“Fred?” Ginny asked, eyes soft. I nodded. “Ah.”

“So now, I thought we were over, we ended things really well and I still love him, I just didn't know I might love him like... that.”

Hermione contemplated for a moment. “Well, think of it like this. Maybe it wasn't just the smell of Fred. Maybe it's a smell you already loved, separate from him, and that's what drew you to him in the first place.”

I nodded slowly. “You're telling me she got with my brother because of his smell?” Ginny raised an eyebrow.

“No,” I laughed, “I understand what she means. Thank you, Hermione,” I rested my head on her shoulder, “that makes me feel much better.”

~oOo~

“Did you know,” I held onto Harry's arm as we walked through the castle, “rumour has it, there's a vampire in attendance tonight,” I told him.

He let out a chuckle as he fixed his tie. “Did you also know that Rufus Scrimgeour is a vampire?”

I cocked my head at him, and took his offered arm. “Our Minister of Magic?” He nodded. “And who told you that?”

“Luna.” I nodded slowly, a smile growing on my face. I shoved him playfully as we both burst into laughter.

~oOo~

The man with dark shadows surrounding his eyes stared at me. I felt all too exposed, trying to cover my neck with my hand, but his gaze roamed my skin any how. I cleared my throat and turned my attention back to Harry's conversation with Eldred Worple. “- why, we could have the book finished within months... My dear boy, the gold you could make, you have no idea-”

“I'm definitely not interested, and I've just seen a friend of mine, sorry.” Harry took my hand and, thankfully, lead me away from Sanguini and the author.

“Thank you for that, I thought he was about to pounce,” I breathed, “what is Slughorn thinking?”

“I don't know,” Harry laughed as he took my empty glass to give to a waiter, “but Worple didn't want to give up.”

“You mean you don't want a stranger to write your life biography?”

“I should just get you to write it,” Harry was looking about the crowd, “you like writing, and it would be much easier since you've been there for it all.” He finally spotted who he was looking for, “Hermione!” and started off in her direction.

“You go ahead,” I let go of his hand, “I heard Professor Firenze is about somewhere.”

“- pathetic wizards who cannot accept a loss.” The centaur's gruff voice was as outspoken as always.

“What's going on?” I asked, looking to Luna and the Patils, and back to Firenze.

“Professor was just telling us about failed Diviners.” Parvati told me, a dreamy smile on her face.

“Ah.” I looked back to the girls. “Could I have a moment with the Professor?” They nodded and left. I greeted Firenze with a curt bow; I knew how much respect meant to him and tried to accommodate that whenever I could.

“Rookwood,” he bowed back and continued his previous statement, “witches and wizards in this day and age do not seem to understand the true meaning of precognition.”

“You've encountered many people who think this way?”

“I have seen the books, I have heard about the humans,” he scoffed, “Sybill Trelawney for one,” I pursed my lips and nodded; she may be a very sweet lady, but she didn't seem to have the best grasp on reality, “Alphonse Vaughn, Addison Armary, Joshua Buckos, anyone who uses Divining for any old purpose.” I hadn't heard of any of those names, yet I let him continue, he seemed to be on a roll. “Divination is not a skill that you can hope to gain one day, it is bestowed upon you, Kensi, it is in your blood.”

It felt as if he was speaking more personally on this account, and when I opened my mouth to ask further questions, I was interrupted. A loud commotion, “Get your hands off of me, you filthy Squib!” I turned around to see Draco being hoisted through the crowd by Filch, his hand around the back of the blond's neck.

“Professor Slughorn,” Filch wheezed, “I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor, claims to have been invited-”  
  


Draco pulled free of his grasp and exclaimed, “Okay, okay, I was gate-crashing! Happy?” His silver eyes found mine, his mouth curled in a sneer.

“I'll escort him out.” Professor Snape made his way towards Draco, away from Harry, and dragged Malfoy out the door by his sleeve.

Harry looked at me with urgency in his eyes. I knew what he was thinking, as I was my thoughts ran along the same lines. _What the bloody hell was Draco doing here?_ I took another bow before Firenze, “If you'll excuse me, Sir,” and made for Harry, pulling him out of the door after Malfoy and Snape.

“This way,” Harry lead me down a corridor, towards Snape's office. Once out of sight of any lingering students, he pulled his Invisibility Cloak out of his inner jacket pocket and pulled it over the both of us. A few more hesitant steps forward and we saw them, Snape towering menacingly over Draco.

“Maybe I did hex the Bell girl, maybe I didn't.” Draco's voice was a harsh whisper.

“I swore to your mother that I would protect you,” I hadn't heard the Professor's voice like this before; stern, but... scared. “I made the Unbreakable Vow.” Harry looked to me, eyebrows furrowed, and I shrugged in response.

“I don't need your protection, I can do this.” Classic Malfoy, overestimating his own abilities, evidently. “I won't fail him. I was _chosen_.” Then footsteps falling away, and Snape's office door opening and then slamming shut. Harry took the cloak off of us, looking to me, panting and wide eyed.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally finished the full draft! So now updates will be more often, and a part 2 is in the works. Thank you for your support :)

Chapter Ten

The next morning, I was greeted with a letter from my father. I felt sick to my stomach; I couldn't hear my friends around me asking if I was okay. I most certainly was not.

_Kensi,_

_It has been arranged between Mrs Malfoy and I that you will spend this Christmas with her and Draco at the Manor in Wiltshire. This will give you more opportunities to get closer to your fiancé and begin on wedding arrangements._

_Narcissa will inform me if you do not go along with our plans, and I assure you, you will not like that._

_Christmas Wishes,_

_Your Father_

A tear rolled down my cheek as Ron took the letter I let drop to the Great Hall table. “He must be barking!” The redhead exclaimed. “We leave tomorrow, he can't do this!”

Harry said something in an equally astounded voice, but I was focussed on Draco who, across the room, was holding a letter, too. From his confused expression, “Kensi,” which quickly turned exasperated, “Kensi,” I knew it must one explaining the situation to him, “Kens!”

My eyes snapped to Harry as I wiped my face, a plan formulating in my mind. “Look, Harry,” I took the letter from him and shoved it into my back pocket, “I have an idea.” I took a deep breath, “I don't want to go, but this could help us.” He looked at me in disbelief, and I lowered my voice. “Think about it! The Order trusts Snape, we don't. You trust _me_.” Harry nodded slowly, my eyes flickered to Ron, who still seemed confused. “I could be _your_ person on the inside.” The two boys opened their mouths to protest, but I shushed them. “Now, I'm not saying I'm going to take the Mark or anything like that, I just mean that I can have a snoop around. It's a _Death Eater's house_ for crying out loud!”

Harry still seemed hesitant. “It's not safe, Kens.”

“When has anything I've ever done for you been ' _safe_ '? Besides, their son is my betrothed, I don't think they'll want to kill me off so soon.” Harry thought for a moment. “For some reason, they want me. Alive.” This seemed to comfort my friends, and I managed to get back to my lunch. “So,” I took a bit of an apple, “I spoke to Hermione, did you tell Ron?”

“Tell Ron what?” The redhead asked.

Harry cleared his throat, “Well, last night at Slughorn's party, Kensi and I snuck off-”

“Oh Merlin, don't tell me about-”

“Shut up, Weasley,” I rolled my eyes, “not like that.”

Harry's ears were tinged red, but he carried on telling Ron of what we had overheard the night before. “And you're absolutely sure Snape said ' _Unbreakable Vow_ '?” We both nodded. “Well, it's just that you can't break an Unbreakable Vow.”

“I worked that much out for myself, funnily enough.” I scoffed at Harry's sarcastic response. “So what happens then, if you break an Unbreakable Vow?”

“I asked 'Mione that,” I piped up, “she told me... She told me you die.”

~oOo~

At King's Cross, I pulled both Ginny and Hermione into a tight hug. “I'm so sad I won't be with you all this year,” I said into Hermione's hair, before pulling away. “You won't have too much fun without me, will you?”

“Never.” Ginny smiled back.

I moved to give Harry and Ron hugs, too, and spotted Draco over their shoulder, sulking like a child. “Let me know what they think,” I said to Harry, indicating to the blond boy, “about all of that.”

He nodded. “I'll talk to Remus and Sirius, see what they have to say.”

Behind him, Draco was tapping his foot impatiently. “I have to go now, but,” I took a breath and looked to Ginny, “will you tell Fred that I-” I hesitated, “I'm sorry.”

The redhead girl nodded, “Of course. He'll understand.” I waved one last time, picked up my trunk, and headed towards Malfoy.

Draco cleared his throat. “Usually someone Apparates me from here, but,” he looked around and his voice became small, “there isn't anyone... _available_ right now.”

“Oh.” I wasn't sure want to say. “S-so-”

  
“So, we'll need to Floo.” I followed him to a wall on the far side of the platform, which was lined with fireplaces. A few students, some with and some without parents, were lined up using them. “Malfoy Manor,” Draco told me, “say it clearly; I will not be coming to look for you.” I nodded. “And keep back,” I took a step away from him, “I don't need people talking about us.”

I watched with a glare as he entered the fireplace in front of us, his trunk in one hand and a fist of Floo Powder in the other. He closed his eyes, announced his destination, and threw the powder at his feet. Then he vanished in the lick of green flames. I copied his actions exactly, and fell out onto a white marble floor, directly onto my hands and knees with my trunk toppling out next to me. I grunted in pain, sitting back on my heels and dusting off my hands. I still wasn't used to that.

I looked up to see Draco in front of me, looking down at me with an eyebrow cocked. I stumbled to my feet, snapping at him, “Thank you for the help, Malfoy.”

I heard footsteps approach, the click of heels echoing throughout the foyer I had found myself in. Narcissa Malfoy came around the corner of a doorway to the right. “Oh, Draco!” She embraced her son in a tight hug, and I heard her whisper, “I'm so glad you're okay.”

They pulled apart and Mrs Malfoy turned to me, looking me up and down. I glanced down at my soot covered clothes, to the soot covered floor, and then back to her. “I-I'm sorry, Mrs Malfoy, I'll-”

“Not to worry,” her smile was thin, almost forced, “it can't be helped.” She took a step closer to me, and I suddenly felt self-conscious under her and her son's stare. “I-it's good to see you again, Kensi,” I smiled and nodded as she turned back to Draco. “Will you show Miss Rookwood to the guest room?” He nodded. “Both of you get settled and cleaned up, I will send for you when dinner is ready.” I made to retrieve my belongings, but Narcissa stopped me with a gentle hand on my arm. “Don't be silly, the elves will take them.”

“Uh, thank you,” I gave another smile and followed Draco up the stairs to our left.

The corridor at the top was dim, with no windows, the only light coming from the two chandeliers on the ceiling. There were various portraits on the right wall, I suspected of various relatives and ancestors of the Malfoy family, and on the left were two doors. Draco opened the door to the first one, revealing a large room decorated in soft greys and pinks. On the fair side of the room was a floor to ceiling window covered by a sheer curtain, which gave a view of the Manor gardens. On the bed was my trunk along with two, neatly folded, white towels. “Bathroom is there,” Draco's monotone voice sounded as he pointed to the door along the right-hand side wall, and then he left, closing the door behind him. I heard his footsteps receed further down the hall, the door open, and then close again.

The anxiety started to seep into my muscles. There I was, in Malfoy Manor, in their guest room, which happened to be next to Draco's bedroom. I wondered who else might be in the mansion. Other Death Eaters? Bellatrix Lestrange? _Voldemort himself?_

I took a deep breath and slipped my shoes off, leaving them by the door. Walking across the hardwood floor felt cold through my socks, but the plush rug felt soft beneath my feet as I stopped at the side of the bed. I pulled out some fresh clothes and underwear, picked up a towel, and made my way to the bathroom. Movement in the garden caught my eye, causing me to stop. I pushed the curtain aside, taking in the view.

  
The large lawn was broken up by a patio area the in the middle which was surrounded by flower beds, with a fountain as a central feature and few benches either side. From there, a stone path lead to the far end, through a gap in the neat hedges, which looked to lead into a small orchard. The entire garden was meticulously kept; no stray leaf or overgrown bush in sight. However, what initially caught my eye were two enormous white peacocks, strutting the width of the grass, occasionally stopping to peck at the ground. They were beautiful.

After a few lingering moments of observing the majestic creatures, I carried on to the en-suite bathroom, my head spinning once again. I regretted coming here, but I knew, deep down, I didn't have a choice. The hot water flowing over my body reminded me of the fall I had just a few moments earlier, my knees giving a light sting. Despite the bravado I put on, my father did scare me at the best of times. I closed my eyes as the water washed down my face. He wasn't always like that. From what I remember, before my mother died, he was fiercely protective of the both of us. Then again, maybe that was nothing more than a child idealising their parent.

I rubbed my eyes and continued to wash my body. I thought about how Draco idealises his parents. He had always been awfully loyal to his father, but I hadn't seen him interact with his mother much before. He was so careful, so delicate, so... kind? Of course, I suppose even disgustingly horrible Slytherin Death Eaters would still love their mothers. _If_ he was a Death Eater. That's what I was at Malfoy Manor to find out, in one way or another. There was _one_ way, but I didn't think Malfoy would make it so easy for me to just pull his sleeve up. Not quite a dinner conversation starter either. _Hey, Draco, I was wondering if you've been initiated recently? Also, could you pass the salt?_ No, not quite.

~oOo~

When the house elf came to fetch me for dinner, I tried to ask her name. Her response was simply, “I-I'm sorry, Miss, but I've been told not to converse with guests.” That was to be expected. She politely showed me to the dining room, where she left me once she explained, “Mrs and Master will be along shortly.”

I wandered about the room, admiring the art in frames on the wall, and came to stop at a console-table. It was full of family photos, as well as Draco's school portraits. “All the way back from first year.” Mrs Malfoy's voice made me spin around, I watched as she and Draco entered from the kitchen with drinks in hand. She handed me one of the glasses of wine, and said, “I hope you don't mind white.” I nodded and thanked her. She said in a low voice, “Draco doesn't like the photos being out-”

“ _Mother_.” I couldn't help but laugh at the blond's frustrated voice as I came to take a seat at the table, opposite from him.

“Don't ' _mother_ ' me,” Narcissa replied, sitting at the head of the table, “she has known you since you were eleven, you know.”

There was no response as the house elves brought out plates of pie and steamed vegetables. The thought of Draco Malfoy in such a domestic disagreement with his mother, in my presence no less, made my head swim. Or that could have been the wine I was gulping in order to calm my nerves.

The food was delicious. We ate quietly for a few moments, as no one really knew what to say.

“Kensi, do you like duck?” Narcissa eventually broke the awkward silence.

“Um,” I used a napkin to pat my mouth clean before responding, “I don't believe I've had it before, Mrs Malfoy-”

“Oh, Narcissa, please.”

I nodded and said, “Narcissa,” slowly, testing it out. It felt strange. “Duck was never one of my father's favourites,” I explained.

“Well,” she continued, “duck is Draco's favourite,” she looked at her son with a smile and he awkwardly smiled back, obviously too aware of my presence, “so we're having that on Christmas day, as well as turkey.”

“Sounds lovely,” I replied.

“Turkey is his father's favourite,” her smile suddenly dropped, “but obviously he...” A long pause, she took a deep breath, “is not with us this year.”

I nodded, looking from her to Draco. He reached out to place a hand over his mother's, whose smile quickly returned. “Both sounds lovely,” I told her, attempting to lighten the mood. The rest of the meal was spent in silence, give for the scrape of cutlery against plates.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Draco brought me a glass of water from the kitchen while I heard his mother conversing with the elves. “Thank you,” I told him, and took a few sips. He didn't sit back down; instead he hovered by the doorway to the corridor. “You don't have to stay for my sake.” At my words, he glanced at me with slightly narrowed eyes, and then turned to leave.

I got up and followed him towards our bedrooms. Just as we reached the top of the stairs, I called out, “You know,” he stopped, not yet spinning to face me, “if we're going to be spending the next two weeks in the same house, the least you could do is actually _speak_.”

Draco turned, looking at me with his signature sneer. “You don't want to be here, I don't want you here,” he explained, “so why bother?”

I huffed. “Because being civil is a lot easier than ignoring my existence.”

“So _you_ think.”

“Fine,” I took a step towards my door, “but honestly I think I'd rather you insult me at this point. At least then I'd know I wasn't invisible.”

“Got it, blood traitor.” And with that, he had retreated to his room.

Great start.

~oOo~

The next few days passed in more or less the same manner; small talk with his mother over dinner, blunt statements said _at_ me rather than _to_ me from Draco, and house elves being too scared to even look at me, let alone respond to any of my conversation starters. I was glad I had brought reading books, as well as textbooks and some school work, as there wasn't much else to keep my mind occupied.

Thankfully, Narcissa was yet to discuss our engagement at all. She didn't seem as pushy as her husband. It made me think about how different the Malfoy Christmas experience would be if he had been present.

From my seat on the bench next to the garden fountain, I looked towards the house. I wondered where Lucius Malfoy's study was in the mansion of a house. I hadn't been given an official tour, but I had explored a bit before an elf appeared and told me that Mrs Malfoy was looking for me. At the time, I had happened down a corridor which ended in a single door. That could have been it, and the elf was trying to distract me, or it was just a coincidence.

One of the peacocks squawked from across the garden, and I looked over to see Draco holding out a handful of food for the bird. I closed my book and slowly made my way over. The bird must have heard me, as it turned to look at me before swiftly running away. Draco sighed in annoyance, throwing the rest of the nuts and berries on the floor. “Sorry,” I said under my breath, avoiding his glare.

“He's underweight,” Draco told me, “he needs to eat more.” I nodded slowly, watching the birds walk around each other, noticing how one was slimmer than the other.

“They're beautiful,” I mentioned, only receiving a quiet hum in response as the blond boy entered the house again. I stayed for a moment more, thinking about how I had never seen Draco in that manner before – caring for another creature, much in the same way he would look after his mother. A protector, of sorts.

~oOo~

Christmas morning arrived and I was happier than I had been since arriving at the Manor, and for one reason; it marked halfway through my stay. In a last ditch attempt to impress – _i.e. not upset_ – Mrs Malfoy, I chose to wear something more on the formal side, which included black slacks and a crimson turtle neck.

I made my way down the stairs and heard clattering coming from the kitchen. I suspected the house-elves were already working on the Christmas dinner and ventured in to take a look. Surely enough, four of the creatures were hard at work, various food items levitating about the room. Potatoes were being separated from their peel, carrots and parsnips where being cut down into chunks, onions and apples were being combined with breadcrumbs for stuffing, and sausages were being wrapped in bacon. I grinned at the memories that surfaced of similar scenes from my childhood. Bunsten would always let me peel a few potatoes by hand, to keep me occupied and keep my hands out of the stuffing.

I found Tinny, the female elf that I remembered from my first day in the Manor, and asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The poor girl looked at me, dumbfounded. “N-No, Miss, you are not permitted to help.”

“Not permitted?” She was quickly back to her work, basting the turkey. The smell was divine. “Okay, well,” I looked around and took a seat at the counter where another elf was glazing the carrots and parsnips with honey, “I'll stay anyway.” I watched for a few moments, then found myself thinking of the house-elves at home. “I've told you about my friends before, haven't I?” I asked Tinny, and she looked at me nervously. “Bunsten, Remmy, and Binky. I always helped them cook.” No one in particular was listening, but I carried on anyway. “I miss them. We were all kind to each other, helped each other.” Tinny seemed to falter as she moved to check on the duck, but she was a generally nervous creature after all. “Just please, Tinny,” she turned to me, her giant orb eyes looking larger than ever, “let me know if you ever need-”

“Good morning.” Narcissa's voice announced her presence, and I winced at the elf's panic. I turned to smile at her as she entered, checking the meal's progress.

“Good morning, Narcissa, what a beautiful dress!” I hoped I was as good at sucking up as I tried to be.

The woman smiled back at me, doing a quick spin to show off her black fitted dress. “Draco is waiting for you in the family room.”

I nodded and hopped off the stool, going to where she had sent me. _The Malfoy family room_. My adventures had not made it to that area of the house yet; I had stuck to the gardens and the bedroom given to me. It felt unsettling. Sitting where the Death Eater family sat to eat dinner was strange enough, and now being in the room where they _relax_... Had the room also served as a Death Eater meeting spot? Where they discussed the Dark Lord's reckoning over a glass of sherry?

Draco cleared his throat from the sofa, drawing my attention away from looking around the room in crude fascination. He was wearing dark denim jeans and a white fitted tee. “Wow,” I remarked, “nice to see you have a colour in your wardrobe other than black.” _Barely_.

“Ha.” He scoffed.

I wandered to the other side of the large room, feeling the boy's eyes on me the whole time. I admired the large Christmas tree, decorated with silver and white baubles. It was enchanted with its own snow cloud, and I outstretched my hand to feel the droplets on my fingertips. As they melted, the flakes left no moisture behind. The coffee table next to it held a radio and a few lit candles. I didn't recognise the singer or song, but it was a slow ballad. “This is... interesting,” I commented, more to myself than anyone else.

“I can't stand it,” Draco responded – and of course the gloomy bastard hates everything –, “but it's Mother's favourite.”

Could it be... Draco Malfoy making conversation?

I was about to speak again, when his mother walked in, holding something behind her back. “Please, Kensi, sit.” She nodded towards the sofa on which Draco was sitting. I hesitantly sat as far from him as I could, and Narcissa sit on edge of the armchair across from us. “Merry Christmas,” she announced as she finally revealed what was behind her back – two presents wrapped in dark blue tissue paper, embellished with silver ribbon and bows. She handed a thick rectangular one to me and the other, a smaller box shaped one, was given to Draco.

My heart sank. “Narcissa, I-I didn't get you anything, I didn't have time, I didn't-”

She shushed me gently. “It's okay, I know the change of plans was on short notice, and probably a big surprise, too. Don't you worry.”

I gave her another apologetic smile, before unwrapping the gift. Taking away the paper, I revealed a book with a purple hardcover and pink embedded text; _The Wanderings of a Tree in the Alps_. “Wow, Narcissa, I... Thank you.” I looked to Draco, who had opened the jewellery box and picked up a necklace, though I couldn't quite see the pendant dangling from it.

“I've noticed you like to read a lot, out by the fountain,” she said as she moved to her son, “and I remembered you said you enjoy Herbology,” she took the necklace from him and helped him to put it on, fixing the clasp behind his neck, “while it isn't exactly Herbology-”

“It's perfect,” I assured her, watching as she kissed Draco's head.

He blushed at his mother's actions and I averted my eyes back to my book. As I opened to the first page, my eyes widened in surprise. Narcissa had written a message in the first page:

_Kensi,_

_Merry Christmas, thank you for spending it with us._

_From Narcissa,_

_your future Mother-in-Law_

I looked up slowly, noting how she was now watching me with a thin smile. “Did you know we have a greenhouse?” She asked, to which I shook my head. “I enjoy spending my free time in there. Draco, why don't you show her?” She stood and looked to her son, who looked less than enthusiastic at the idea. “Excuse me, I need to check on the dinner.” And she gracefully left.

Draco and I made our way to the door in silence, slipping on our boots and jackets before heading outside into the snow. We trudged through the garden, I stayed a couple of steps behind him, and headed for the entrance to the orchard. He lead me through the rows of apple trees and to a small glass greenhouse, which was surrounded by rose bushes. All of the plants were flowering beautifully, and the area was untouched by the snow. I realised why as we got closer; protective and heating charms had been placed around it, keeping it in the perfect conditions for the vegetation.

“Here,” Draco held out his hand unceremoniously, “the greenhouse.”

I hummed. “I can see that.”

“Great, let's go.”

“Wait a minute,” I huffed, “I want to look.”

I knelt down to smell the roses, and noticed some tulips near them, too. I stood back up and looked around. There was a wooden table which seemed to served as a workbench, being filled with clippers, string, empty flower pots, and soil. Malfoy must have noticed me looking, as he explained, “Mother likes it out here. She takes cuttings for the vases indoors sometimes.”

An idea jumped to mind. “Can I?” I asked, waving the clippers in the air. Draco simply shrugged in response. “No, I need an answer, I don't want your mother killing me over something nice I wanted to do for her, just because you _shrugged_.”

“Yes, fine, go ahead,” he rolled his eyes, “just make it quick.”

I grinned satisfactorily and commenced my project. I took clippings of red roses, red tulips, and arranged them together in my hand with other pieces of foliage, even using some smaller branches from the apple trees. Soon, it was too big for me to handle by myself, and I looked to a very fed up Draco. “Can I get some help, please?”

He huffed in annoyance. “Do you forget that you're an adult sometimes?” It was a rhetorical question, but I responded with a stuck-out tongue anyway. He picked up the string from the workbench and started to wrap it around the bouquet, taking it off of me once he reached the point from which I was holding it. I left him to finish it of as I inspected my muddy hands.

“You're bleeding.” The blond boy was right. A few weeping scratches littered my hands and I figured they must have been from the rose thorns.

“Oh, it's okay,” I shrugged it off, not thinking much of it, “happens all the time.”

Suddenly, Draco had disappeared into the greenhouse before emerging with a towel. He came to me and delicately placed the bouquet on the ground. My hands were still in front of me, palms facing the sky. He reached out a shaky hand, placing it under mine, not yet touching me, but I could feel the warmth radiating off of his skin. He lifted the towel, and then hesitated. I took a moment to really look at him, now that he was so close. His shirt clung to his body, which seemed much smaller than usual. Draco had always been slender, but now he was downright _skinny_.

I looked up at his face; his skin looked sickly, not just fair, but almost devoid of colour completely, save for the dark circles around his eyes. His brows furrowed, as if he was conflicted. Or concerned. His eyes met mine. He handed me the towel and took a step back. I released the breath I didn't realise I was holding. I didn't think I had ever been in his personal space like that before. Besides the time I held a wand to his throat for calling Hermione something quite unfavourable. “Don't be such a moron next time.” Ah, there he was.

“Thanks, Malfoy.” I wiped my hands and handed him back the towel, which he threw back into the greenhouse. I picked up the arrangement of flowers and followed him back to the house.

~oOo~

“It really is beautiful,” Narcissa commented for the fourth time since I had handed her the bouquet, which now served as a table centrepiece in a glass vase. Thankfully Draco hadn't lead me astray and she didn't bite my head off for touching her precious flowers. She actually very much appreciated it. “You have a real talent for that,” she told me.

I swallowed my mouthful of potatoes and replied, “Thank you.”

“Is that what you want to do?” She asked. “After you leave Hogwarts?”

I gave a small shrug, “I am considering it, but it's one of a few interests I have.”

“You know, you could do your own arrangements for your wedding.”

Draco choked on his wine, hitting his own chest with his fist in an attempt to relieve his discomfort. I stilled with my napkin to my mouth. Narcissa carried on cutting her turkey as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said. My eyes flicked to Draco, who had finally managed to regain control of his lungs. “Mother, we-”

“I think roses make for gorgeous wedding bouquets.” Narcissa ignored her son.

“Mother, let's not talk about that,” Draco reasoned, “we don't want it-”

“Roses?”

The blond boy sighed. “No, Mother, the wedding. I'm not marrying her.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I don't want-”

Narcissa slammed her knife and fork to the table, finally looking at Draco rather than her plate. “You _will_ , it's what _he_ wants.”

“I'm sorry,” I decided it was time to intervene, since it was _my_ future they were also talking about, “but I couldn't care less what Mr Malfoy wants, I'm not marrying your son.”

For the first time ever, I was subject to Mrs Malfoy's fierce glare. I resisted the urge to shrink back into my seat. “You are living in _my_ house, so you will listen to _me_.” I gulped thickly and, only once she had directed her attention back to her plate, did I risk a glance at Draco. His jaw was set and his eyes were cast downwards. “We can start to plan some details later on this week.” Neither Draco nor I responded, nor did Narcissa speak for the rest of dinner.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

I retreated to my room once Narcissa had excused Draco and me. I was astounded at how insistent she was. What was making them force this abomination so fiercely? I wondered how I could get out of it. I couldn't think of anything short of leaving Hogwarts, running out of the country, and never seeing my father or the Malfoys ever again. Although a bit extreme, it didn't seem like too awful of a plan. I could be a florist in the south of France. Spend my days by the beach.

And act as if Voldemort doesn't exist. Sure.

Not to mention whatever Draco was up to this year, as well as the Death Eaters as a whole. The exact group of people I was here to find out more about, which at that moment in time was a big fat nothing.

I groaned and sat on the bed, pulling out my Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook, _Confronting the Faceless_ , and attempted to distract myself with studying. A mere hour later and I had read all of four pages. I couldn't stop thinking about Draco Malfoy.

My mouth was dry, after one too many glasses of wine at dinner, and so I made the courageous decision to venture downstairs in search of a glass of water. I shoved the box of cigarettes and lighter that I had packed into my trunk into waistband at the back of my trousers, obscuring them with my jumper.

Before I could enter the kitchen, I heard the distinctive voices of Draco and his mother. I stopped and hid behind the doorway. They hadn't noticed me, as their heated conversation continued. “Mum, I am trying my best, I will do it.”

“I just want you to be careful, Draco. Severus is there for-”

“I don't need him, I can do it. I can make _him_ proud.”

“Your father-”

“This isn't about him and you know that.”

The backdoor opened and closed again. I quickly made my way back to the stairs, pretending to have just come down them. With my heart pounding in my chest, Narcissa walked past me without so much as a glance in my direction. I was glad she didn't suspect a thing.

I poured myself a glass of water, my hands shaking at the thought of me possibly getting caught eavesdropping. I took a few calming breaths and went to the double doors leading to the garden. I saw Draco sat on a bench outside by the fountain, only illuminated in the darkness of the evening by a few candles. I stepped into my boots and ventured outside to join him.

Once I reached him, I lit a smoke and offered it to him. He scoffed at me, barely glancing at me. “I don't need your pity-cigarette, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” I inhaled, held, inhaled again, and took a long breath out. I risked sitting beside Draco and he scooted further into the mental arm of the bench. “I'm sorry if I made her angry.”

From the corner of my eye I saw him shake his head slowly. “It was me.”

A few more moments of silence. He held out his hand and I handed him the stick. He took a drag, this time around he barely wheezed.

“Why is she taking it so seriously?” I asked, not necessarily expecting an answer. Maybe I could draw something out of Draco; I almost did last time we were sat smoking together in the dark. “Surely there's other things to focus on at the moment.” He shrugged lightly and handed me back the cigarette. I took another drag and pressed further. “Other _important_ things, you know?” Nothing. “Well, what are we going to do then? Because even without your father, the mastermind behind this shit, she's still trying to force us into... into _this_.” I gestured around wildly, losing my patience.

Draco quickly stood and shot me a glare. “I don't have the time to cater to all of your worries, Rookwood.” He turned and stalked back into the house before I could come up with an insult befitting such a child. I watched him go, finishing off my cigarette. I contemplated flicking the butt into the grass somewhere, a petty attempt at annoying the Malfoys, but thought of the peacocks and took it back with me into the house where I could put it into the kitchen bin.

As I made my way to the foyer to retire to my bedroom for the rest of the night, an unfamiliar voice in the family room stopped me. I crept around the corner, as quietly as I could, stopping a little ways away from the doorway. Anxiety throbbed in my chest. _I was not made for all of this sneaking around._ I chewed my lip as I concentrated on listening to the guest.

Narcissa spoke first, “You were reckless!”

“We had orders.” There was the unfamiliar, rough voice of a man.

“You should have seen it, Cissy!” My stomach churned at the second, more recognisable voice. Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Lower your voice.” Narcissa's voice was harsh, not unlike how she had spoken to me a few hours prior.

Lestrange barrelled on, as if she hadn't heard her sister. “You should have seen Potter's face,” my hands flew to my mouth to surprise my gasp, “we _almost_ had him! If it wasn't for the damn Order-”

“I said, _lower your voice._ The girl is here.”

“Why don't you just Imperio her?” The man asked. My heart thumped harder still.

“She needs to be _willing_.” Mrs Malfoy's voice was full of venom. She was clearly not impressed with her visitors.

All too soon, I was being pulled away from the conversation with a hand over my mouth. Draco's angry eyes met my narrowed ones, and I bit down on his palm. He quickly pulled back, but his grip remained tight on my elbow. He pushed me towards the stairs, where we both quietly made our way up.

My mind was racing. Why hadn't he turned me in? What was he planning to do with me?

We reached my door first and he pushed me inside. “What do you think you were doing?” He asked me, anger in his voice.

“Did you know?” I retorted. “Did you know they went after Harry tonight?” He seemed to contemplate for a moment. “I said, _did you know_?”

“No,” he spat, “I didn't know about your dear Chosen One.”

I noticed how heavily I was breathing, but I couldn't stop it as I took a step closer to him. “You're a damn liar, Malfoy.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What the fuck are they up to, huh? You should know, shouldn't you? You're one of them after all.”

“You don't know what you're talking about, Rookwood,” he advanced also, using his height to try to intimidate me, “so I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself.”

“What do they want with me?”

  
“To marry me, evidently.”

“Nice try, why?”

“I don't know, okay!” Draco threw his hands in the air, groaning in frustration. “My father wants us married, and I don't. Know. Why. Just give it a rest.”

We were still staring each other down, panting from anger, when there was a knock at the door, followed by it creaking open. There was a moment of panic, but then we both saw Narcissa's confused expression. “Oh, you're both... here. Good.” I swallowed and took a step away from her son, before she continued, “You are both to return to school tomorrow.” I opened my mouth, found myself unable to formulate any response, and closed it again. “I'm sorry for the abrupt change in plans, _again_ , but something has come up.”

Draco took a step towards her. “Mother-”

“You can Floo in the morning. Goodnight.” She turned to leave with Draco hot on her tail, calling after her.

~oOo~

My trip with Malfoy was even more tense than the last. We trekked through the snow in Hogsmeade, keeping a considerable distance between us as he sulked off ahead. The only acknowledgement of my existence he had made was a brief, exhale of a laugh as I hit my head on the fireplace after stumbling out at the Hog's Head Inn. There was a single Thestral-pulled carriage waiting for us and we climbed in, sitting as far apart as physically possible.

The invisible creature set off. I wondered what it would be like to see the horses. Not that I would like to, given the circumstances needed to achieve such a thing, but I would like to see such a rare creature up close. The most I had seen of one were the illustrations in the _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ textbook we used in Care of Magical Creatures. The more I thought about it, I hoped the day never came where I could finally see them. I ignored the niggling feeling in the back of my mind as I looked to my carriage partner that told me I just might, one day.

Our journey finally came to an end as we stopped at the main gates. We both jumped off of the carriage as two of the school elves appeared, picked up our trunks, and disappeared once more. “Hey, wait!” I called out to Draco, who had already entered the castle by the time I turned to look at him. As expected, he ignored me. I set off into a jog to catch up with him on the Grand Staircase, tugging on his sleeve once he was within reach.

He whirled around, causing me to stumble backwards. In a matter of moments, he had his wand drawn, inches from my chest. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to ask what is going on,” I told him, through shaky breaths.

“You don't give up, do you?” He took a step closer to me, but I stood my ground.

“I want you to tell me what your mother said when you spoke to her last night.”

“Family matters,” he replied, “it's frankly none of your business.” He paused, but before I could argue any further, he continued, “Our lovely Christmas holiday is over, so now we can go back to hating each other.”

I scoffed. “We never stopped.”

“Right you are there.” He didn't lower his wand, but he thought for a moment. His features softened, ever so slightly, no longer expressing anger, but something else altogether. “I don't want this any more than you do, but I _have_ to.” Clearly he wasn't speaking about our marriage any more. Panic struck me for a brief thought, as I wondered if he was going to curse me.

Instead, he turned and carried on up the stairs. I was left, breathless, in his wake.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

“Ginny!” I rushed down the corridor, which had become busier as more and more students returned from Christmas break. “Hermione!” I embraced the two girls in a tight hug, relief finally washing over me after a week long wait. They tightened their grip on me, we separated, and I immediately fired off questions and concerns. “What happened? I hadn't heard anything, I tried to send an owl as soon as I got back to Hogwarts, but never got a reply, I was so scared-”

“Kens, Kensi, it's okay,” Ginny stopped me, “we're all okay.”

“Everyone? No one-”

“No one got hurt,” Hermione reassured me.

The panic that had settled into my chest since Christmas Day finally subsided. “Fred-”

“Is fine.” Ginny smiled warmly at me, yet the happiness didn't quite reach her eyes. Before I could ask for confirmation, however, she said solemnly, “The house is gone.” She hesitated for a moment. “Dad says it doesn't matter, it's all just _things_ , isn't it?” Hermione and I nodded. “So long as we're all safe, things can be replaced. I suppose he's...”

“He is right,” I told her, pulling her into another hug.

“Have you seen Harry and Ron?” Hermione asked.

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

“Then how did you know something happened?” She looked at me quizzically. “The Order stopped all communication coming in and out of the area. That's why we didn't receive yours.”

That made sense. “At the Manor, I-” I looked around, before pulling them down a less busy hallway, “I overheard them talking.” I paused. “Mrs Malfoy was speaking to Bellatrix Lestrange.” Realisation hit them. “It was afterwards, all I heard was her, and a man, telling Narcissa that they almost had Harry-”

“They lured him out of the house, her and Fenrir Greyback,” Ginny told me and I realised who the mysterious man must have been, “I ran after him, so did everyone else, and Bellatrix set the house on fire. Lucky everyone was out before it happened.”

~oOo~

It was a couple of hours later, when I finally saw Harry. He was walking with Hermione, who walked off in another direction upon being confronted with the sight of Lavender practically in Ron's lap. Harry didn't seem to notice me at first, and so I called out his name.

He glanced back at me.

And carried on walking.

“Harry!” I said louder, running up to him. “Where have you been? I haven't had a chance-” His pace picked up, instead of slowing to a stop. “Harry, wait, what's-”

He stopped suddenly and I almost walked right into his back. “Did you know?” He asked me bluntly once he had turned around. I looked at him, confused. “You were in the house of a Death Eater for a week, you must have heard _something_.”

It dawned on me. “Don't be ridiculous, Harry.” I was insulted, but tried not to let my anger show; he was just hurting. “I didn't know they were going to do that, it was just Mrs Malfoy, Draco, and I-”

“You,” his chest was heaving, “you told me you were going to be there, through everything.” I clenched my jaw. “You- you said- you told me you weren't leaving my side.” He shook his head. “I-I can't believe I believed you.”

I didn't know what to say; I tried opening my mouth, hoping words of comfort were just going to fall out, but they didn't. He was hurting, and there was nothing I could do. Harry turned to walk away from me, coming face-to-face with Draco walking in the opposite direction.

Harry lunged for him, fists balled. The Slytherin took a few steps back, creating more space between them. “Harry!” I grabbed his arm, using as much force as I could to pull him away before he did anything. My friend pushed me away, and stalked off down the corridor. I expected Draco to say something, insult me or yell after Harry, but he simply sneered at me and walked away.

~oOo~

Since Harry's outrage at me, I had been spending more time with Hermione, as well as the occasional study date with Leanne. She had informed me that Katie was still in St Mungos Hospital and she hadn't had much more information other than ' _she's recovering_ ' which she took to be a good sign.

Not long after classes had resumed, we were informed of the first of our weekly Apparition lessons. I was looking forward to them; learning to Apparate felt like another step to freedom. All students who had signed up, which seemed to be a large majority of Sixth Year, gathered in the Great Hall before our instructor, Wilkie Twycross. Since I was giving Harry some space, I ended up towards the back of the group, next to the Slytherins.

As the Ministry official started his introduction, Malfoy caught my eye from my right. He seemed to be in a heated discussion with Zabini, I could only catch words here and there. “ _..._ _soon, just... help... do it..._ ” He immediately stopped, face flushing pink when Professor McGonagall reprimanded him.

Twycross continued his speech, telling us all how the anti-Apparition enchantment had been lifted _only on the Great Hall_ for the next hour to allow for our lessons. He emphasised how we would still be unable to Apparate outside of the Hall and that it would be unwise to try. He then instructed us, “Place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you.” I was already in a decent space, just moving a few steps backwards to allow Pansy Parkinson more room.

“ _Harry!_ ” Hermione's voice drew my attention, and I watched as she called after the boy, who was weaving through the crowd to stand behind, of course, Draco Malfoy. The blond boy, nor his friend, seemed to notice as they were looking about them to ensure they had their own space, while using the opportunity to continue their discussion. I attempted to subtly move closer.

“It's taking longer than I thought it would,” I overheard Malfoy say. Blaise leaned in to whisper something back to him, which I couldn't hear, and causing the other boy to retort, “It's none of your business, just listen to me!”

“I tell my friends what I'm up to,” Harry spoke up, “if I want them to help me.” Malfoy spun around, hand flying to his wand, before the Heads of House called for silence.

The blond took a look at me as he faced the front again. “Rookwood,” he sneered, “keep Potter on a tighter leash, won't you?”

Twycross was lecturing us all on the three D's of Apparition; Destination, Determination, and Deliberation. With a flick of his wand, wooden hoops has appeared in front of us all and, step-by-step, we were told to concentrate on our destination, use our determination, and move with deliberation. On his count, we all spun on the spot. Nothing happened, besides a few of those with less balance falling over.

Our instructor called for our attention, told us to reset, and try again. And again. And again. On the fourth try, a scream of pain echoed about the Hall. Everyone turned to the source, and saw the professor's rushing to Susan Bones's aid, who promptly collapsed without the support of her left leg.

“Splinching,” Twycross explained as there was an explosion of purple smoke and Susan was whole again, “the separation of random body parts occurs when the mind is insufficiently _determined_.” He acted as if the entirety of Sixth Year hadn't just seen a magically-amputated, free-standing limb on an unsuspecting Saturday morning. As if he was just commenting on the day's newspaper headline.

The rest of the lesson passed without anyone else losing a body part, and without anything else in particular. By the time the hour was up, no one had managed to do anything other than stumble about on the spot. Twycross seemed unsurprised, telling us we would resume at the same time next Saturday.

~oOo~

By the time the third lesson rolled around, a couple of students had managed to Splinch themselves, but someone was yet to experience a full-body Apparition. The atmosphere in the Great Hall was tense, both due to the frustrations of not being able to Apparate, as well as the fact that we had been informed that the next Hogsmeade trip, in a week's time, was cancelled. Leanna told me she thought it was expected, given what had happened to Katie on the last trip. An outburst from Ron from across the common room that morning told me he was less than pleased with the decision. “ _It was on my birthday!_ ”

I looked around at the grouchy students, focussing in on Malfoy. Since the first lesson, Harry had remained close by, I assumed in an attempt to eavesdrop if he said anything else of interest to Zabini. Apparently, Malfoy wasn't as stupid as Harry seemed to think, as his concentration had remained, unfaltering, on the lesson at hand.

Harry had barely spoken to me since his outburst over my absence at The Burrow. A few “excuse me's” in the halls, one or two “thank you's” as I let him past me in the common room or classroom. The past few weeks of avoidance had stung, but I wanted to let him come to me, when he was ready.

My attention was brought back to the class, as Wilkie Twycross counted us down once more. I tried to focus on the hoop in front of me, but my mind kept wandering to my friend and, as I spun, I lost my balance and fell to the floor, landing on my knees. I winced in pain, thankful that the sight of someone on the ground wasn't a rare thing in this class, so no one gave me a second glance.

Except Harry, who came to my side and helped me to stand, placing a supportive grip on my elbow as I came to stand. He gave me a small smile as I dusted off my knees. “Thank you,” I whispered, and he gave me a nod before returning to his spot.

I felt much lighter for the rest of the hour, and when Harry asked if I wanted to back to the common room with him, I flashed him a grin. “Where are Ron and Hermione, anyway?” I asked as we approached the portrait.

“Asking about extra Apparition lessons,” he told me, “they're desperate to pass the test.”

I nodded in understanding. “Maybe I should, too,” I wondered allowed as we stepped into the, mostly empty, room.

“Listen, Kens,” Harry started, taking a seat on the floor by the fireplace and gesturing me to sit in front of him, “I'm really sorry-”

“I'm sorry, too,” I told him, “I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me.”

“Don't,” Harry shook his head, “there's no way you could have known. I'm sorry for taking it out on you.”

I gave him a gentle smile; I was so happy to just _talk_ to him again. “Have you found anything out, with the whole Malfoy thing?”

He shook his head. “What about you? Was your time at the Manor useful at least?”

I paused. Then shook my head, too. “I overheard him talking to his mother, but it was along the same lines as what we heard him say to Snape. That it's his job, he doesn't want their help, he was chosen.”

“It _has_ to be Voldemort, but what-”

“Glad to see you two have made up,” Ron told us, sitting on the sofa next to us.

“Me, too,” Harry said. “I guess you haven't heard,” he turned back to me, “I had a visit from the Minister of Magic over Christmas.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “What, did he try to recruit you to his legion of bloodsuckers?”

“Something like that,” Harry laughed, “he wanted me to be their poster boy, give the impression I was working alongside them, or for them, I'm not quite sure.”

“After everything they've done?” I exclaimed, “After _Umbridge_?”

“My thoughts exactly.” Harry nodded. “He then he accused me of being Dumbledore's man, through and through.”

“At least he got something right,” Ron perked up.

  
“Ron, I'm sorry to hear about your birthday,” I turned to him with a frown, “but we'll sort something out.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “if Harry will actually pay attention to us instead of Malfoy,” he shot the boy in question a not-too-serious glare, “or do you want to invite him to the festivities, too?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” I raised an eyebrow at Harry, but Ron piped up again.

“He's insane!” The redhead exclaimed, “Near enough stalking the boy on that damn map.” Harry's protests of ' _I am not!_ ' were drowned out by Ron's continuing rant, “Right before he goes to sleep, as soon as he wakes up in the morning, it's getting as bad as that Potions book.”

“And you still haven't found out anything useful?” I asked.

“No! Just that he disappears from the map occasionally and I have no idea where he's going.”

“Okay, so does this mean you've made progress with your Dumbledore lessons since you're suddenly so infatuated with Malfoy?”

“No,” Harry hesitated, “I was supposed to retrieve one of his memories, one that he tampered with, but,” he winced at the thought, “I kind of just insulted him, and now I can't get a chance to speak to him alone. But I will.” There was a moment of silence in which Harry just nodded, reassuring himself more than us, I suspected. Then suddenly, “And I am _not_ infatuated!”


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

I was sat in the Great Hall, waiting for Harry and Ron to join me. It was Ron's birthday, his coming of age, and, since we couldn't go to Hogsmeade for a drink, Harry said he would take the redhead for a fly around Hogwarts grounds. They said they would meet me for lunch, at twelve o'clock, but it was now nearing one. I was worried, and Hermione noticed from further down the table.

“They're still not here?” She asked, taking a seat across from me. I shook my head, nervously bouncing my leg. “You know what those boys are like,” she assured me, “they're probably fine, they probably just got-”

“Kensi! Hermione!” Ginny ran into the Hall, a nervous look in her eyes. “Ron's in the hospital wing,” we both bolted up from our seats, “he's been poisoned.”

~oOo~

Harry caught us up as we all waited to see him. “Professor McGonagall said she was going to contact your parents,” Harry told Ginny, a comforting hand on her arm.

We waited hours to see him, barely saying a word to each other as anxiety was thick in the air. Hermione glared at me the few times she noticed my leg fidgeting. Finally, by eight o'clock, Madam Pomfrey allowed us entry. We all rushed to his side, but he was still unconscious. Hermione took the seat one side of the bed, while Ginny sat at the other.

“He's so pale,” I commented.

“He's always pale,” Hermione replied, under her breath. She didn't take her eyes off of his still face.

“Not exactly one of Ron's better birthdays,” a familiar voice commented, and we all turned to see the twins enter the infirmary. I couldn't help how my heart jumped at the sight of Fred.

We all greeted them with soft smiles and quick hugs. “Where's Mum and Dad?” Ginny asked.

“In Dumbledore's office,” Fred replied.

“They'll be along shortly,” George continued.

There was a pause in conversation, as we all watched Ron shift in his sleep. George was the one to break the silence. “We were waiting in Hogsmeade for hours for you lot,” he said.

“You were in Hogsmeade?” Ginny looked up.

Fred nodded and told us, “We were talking about buying Zonko's,” he gave me a small smile, “and thought we'd surprise our dear brother.”

“Kensi said you were thinking of expanding the business,” Harry mentioned.

“Yeah, but fat lot of good that will do us if no one is allowed out at weekends any more,” George looked absolutely gloomy as he spoke. “Anyway,” the twin pulled up a chair and sat beside Ginny, “how did all of this happen?”

Harry recounted his story, and I felt sorry for him; to repeat, for what felt like the hundredth time, how his best friend could have died. From the love potion-spiked chocolates, to asking for Slughorn for a remedy, to the celebratory mead he had served. “Could Slughorn have slipped something into Ron's glass without you noticing?” Fred asked once Harry was finished.

“I suppose so, yes-”

“But, _why_?” I asked, unconvinced, “Slughorn has no reason to go after Ron.”

Fred frowned. “Did he mix the glasses up, giving Ron the poison which was meant for Harry?”

It was Ginny's turn to voice her apprehension. “Why would Slughorn poison Harry?”

Fred shrugged. “He's The Chosen One, there's going to be a few people after him.”

“So, you think Slughorn's a Death Eater?” Ginny asked.

“Or maybe he was under the Imperius Curse,” George wondered aloud, “anything is possible.”

“Wouldn't be the first time,” I said, thinking back to Katie Bell.

“Or,” Ginny took a deep breath, I could almost see her brain ticking away, “he could be completely innocent. Maybe the poison was meant for him.”

“Who'd want to kill Slughorn?” Fred piped up once more.

“Dumbledore reckons Voldemort wanted Slughorn on his side,” Harry contributed to the discussion once more, after a while of thinking, “maybe Voldemort wants him out of the way, if he thinks he could be valuable to Dumbledore.”

“Wait,” Ginny furrowed her brow, “didn't you say Slughorn intended to give the bottle to Dumbledore?” Harry nodded. “So the poison could have easily been intended for Dumbledore.”

Our discussion was soon stopped by an attempt at communication from Ron. “Er-my-knee,” he croaked, still not conscious, “Er... my... knee.” We looked to a very quiet Hermione expectantly, but she avoided direct eye-contact and took Ron's hand in hers. Ginny and I shared a smirk.

In the next moment, the doors to the hospital wing swung open once more, and in came Molly and Arthur. Mrs Weasley engulfed Harry into a hug. “Harry,” she was almost sobbing, “first Ginny, and then Arthur, and now Ron,” she pulled away from him, looking around at her family.

Harry opened his mouth, I assumed to make humble protests, but Arthur said, “Half our family does seem to owe you their lives, now I stop and think about it. A bezoar, imagine that.”

“Yeah, I read it in a Potions textbook,” he looked to Hermione and I nervously, before continuing, “just glad I remembered it.” He must have seen it in the Half-Blood Prince's notes, since I didn't recall learning about bezoars this year.

Soon enough, Madam Pomfrey came along to tell us there were too many visitors, and so Harry, Hermione, and I left Ron to be with his family. “Aren't you coming to the dorms?” Hermione asked me as I started in the opposite direction.

“No, I just need to go for a walk,” I told them, “maybe try to sneak into the kitchen for some food. I'll see you guys later.”

I meandered about the castle aimlessly, occasionally casting a _Tempus_ to keep an eye on the time. After the stressful day, I found the exercise relieving. I found myself wandering past the stairs leading to the seventh floor corridor, and who would I find making his way out of the corridor, but Draco Malfoy. He startled when he noticed me, but quickly regained composure and carried on past me. “It was a lovely Christmas holiday,” I told him, making him stop in his tracks, “you think you'll have me for Easter, too?”

Malfoy scoffed and turned to face me. “My family isn't exactly big on Easter, especially not for a blood traitor.”

“Funny,” I laughed, “seemed like a _blood traitor_ was good enough for your mother. Dare I say she even _liked_ me?”

The blond boy huffed and spat, “Fuck off, Rookwood,” before stalking off once again.

“Wow, engagement going well, then?” I turned around to see Fred laughing.

“Wonderful,” I approached him and we walked back towards the main part of the building, “what are you doing?”

“We're going home soon, I wanted to come find you.”

“Well, found me.” I smiled at him.

He stopped me as we neared the hospital wing. “I just wanted to say, thank you.” I cocked my head in confusion. “Thank you for always supporting us, with the business, and... thank you for being there for Ron today.”

“Of course, Fred.” I grinned at him. “And how is home now? I'm sorry I wasn't-”

“Don't apologise,” he stopped me, “it's not your fault you weren't there, and I'm glad you weren't. I would have killed someone if you had got hurt.” I looked to my shoes, willing the blush to leave my cheeks. “And it's okay now, almost completely rebuilt.”

“Well,” I smiled back up at him, “if there's anything you ever need, let me know.”

Instead of replying, he pulled me into a tight hug, before telling me 'goodbye' and pushing through the doors to where his family were waiting for him.

I was left with the familiar scent of honey lingering in the air.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on part two of this series and I really think it's going to be better than this one! Stay tuned for the notes at the end of the chapter for more info

Chapter Fifteen

“I'm going to strangle McLaggen,” Harry growled from his place in the hospital wing bed. “I swear, I am going to _kill_ him.”

“No, you're not,” I berated him, “Madam Pomfrey is keeping you overnight,” I filled his glass of water on his bedside table, “you can save the murder for tomorrow.”

It had just been a week, one single week, and that boy had gone and found himself even more trouble. Due to Ron being out of action, Cormac McLaggen took his spot as Keeper in their match against Hufflepuff. According to Harry, he had been way too overbearing, trying to practically overhaul the team to how he saw fit. In the middle of the match, McLaggen took it upon himself to show one of their Beaters, Jimmy Peakes, how to hit a Bludger. At this precise moment, Harry blazed towards him, earning himself a Bludger to the skull.

After he had been removed from the pitch and taken to the infirmary, Gryffindor proceeded to lose, “ _Three hundred and twenty to sixty!_ ” Harry roared, for the third time. “Just wait until I get a hold of McLaggen.”

“You wouldn't want to get a hold of him,” Ron said, from the bed next to him, “he's the size of a troll. Besides, I think the rest of the team will have sorted him out by the time we're out of here. Ginny was in a rage when she came by.”

“Ginny came?” I didn't miss the subtle upturn of Harry's lips.

“She was worried,” I told him, fighting back a smirk, “wanted to make sure you'd be okay.” The tips of his ears tinged pink. _Young love_.

“Well, it's not exactly the first time you've been injured in Quidditch, is it?” Ron argued. “Remember the last time a Bludger tried to kill you, in Second Year, you were chasing after Malfoy-”

“Malfoy!” Harry exclaimed. “I wanted to follow him tonight-”

“Harry,” I huffed a breath of annoyance, “leave it for tonight, you need a rest. You have a cracked skull for crying out loud!”

“You can do it!” He looked at me excitedly. “You can sneak into the boys' dormitory, right?” I looked at him nervously as Ron seemed to choke on thin air. “I know you used to, when you were going out with Fred-”

“Harry! I did not!” It was suddenly all too hot in the ward.

“Whatever, look,” Harry sat up more, wincing in pain, before continuing, “go into our room, my bed is the one on the middle-left, you'll see the photo of my parents,” he seemed deadly serious at this point, so I listened intently, “under my pillow is the Marauder's Map and under the bed, in my trunk, is the Invisibility Cloak.” He paused and I nodded to show I was paying attention. “Use them. Follow Malfoy. See where it is he's going, please... It's important.”

I sighed and hesitated. I looked into my friend's eyes. He was near enough begging me. “If I do this, will you promise to shut up and get some rest?”

He grinned. “I'll be right as rain tomorrow.”

“Fine. I'll see what I can do.” Harry settled back down into his pillow. “Ron, keep an eye on him.”

“Yes, boss,” Ron laughed, “at least we both get out tomorrow.”

On my way towards the door, I called back, “And Ron, please stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to visit.” I didn't need to look back to know he was looking sheepishly from me to Harry.

~oOo~

As I entered the common room, I was met by the sight of Lavender with an angry scowl across her face. She was always irritated by others, especially _girls_ , visiting Ron, since she thought we wore him out and he had no energy left for her.

I found Hermione sat at a table by the window, reading over the Apparition pamphlet from the Ministry; _Common Apparition Mistakes and How to Avoid Them_. “I can't wait for Ron to break up with Lavender,” I told her in a whisper, nodding to where the girl in question was still shooting me daggers.

She tried to resist, but couldn't stop the small smile that spread on her lips. Honestly, Harry and I were almost - _almost –_ glad that Ron had been poisoned. If that was what it took to bring him and Hermione together again, then so be it. Hermione had been so much happier since Ron called out to her in his sleep, and I think his distance from Lavender had made him realise how unhealthy that relationship really was. Now it was just a matter of getting him to pluck up the courage to talk to his overzealous girlfriend.

“Is Ginny in bed already?” I asked Hermione, who nodded. “Long day, I suppose.”

The bushy-haired girl looked at me, glanced around the room, and leaned towards me. “She broke up with Dean.”

My mouth fell open. “What?”

Hermione nodded. “Dean wasn't all too happy with her going to visit Harry,” I rolled my eyes, “I know, I know, he wasn't happy, was being his usual overprotective self, and Ginny said she had had enough. Said if she couldn't even see if her unconscious friend was okay, then...”

  
“Understandable,” I nodded, before breaking out into a grin. “I can't wait for Harry too find out.”

Hermione scoffed at me, hitting me on the head with the pamphlet.

~oOo~

I slowly made my way across the room, stepping over dirty clothes along the way. _And I thought us girls were messy_. I located Harry's bed according to his instructions, and reached under his pillow. My fingers found the parchment I was looking for and pulled it out. I knelt down and pulled out the trunk from under his bed next. I opened it, screwed my nose up at the mess inside, but quickly pinpointed the familiar satin of the Cloak.

I bunched up the Cloak and put it under my arm, picked up the map, and turned to leave. “Kensi... What are you doing?”

I forced a smile at Neville. “Hi, Neville... What are you up to?”

He hesitated. “Going to bed,” he glanced at his own bed.

“Oh, well,” I cleared my throat, “Harry wanted me to look over his Defence Against the Dark Arts essay, so... see you!” I walked past him, keeping my head down until I got back to the common room. I was glad to see that most of the students had filtered out, and those who remained were too engrossed in their own conversations to notice anything I was doing.

I found myself a little corner, and pulled out the blank parchment. I pointed my wand at it, took one last look around to make sure no one was watching, and whispered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” Ink filled the page, revealing the layout of the school. I quickly started to scour the map, unfolding the leaves and looking for, “Malfoy, Malfoy, Mal- aha!” I watched as his name left the Slytherin dormitories.

I stood and made my way out of the common room, scurrying through the portrait, following Draco's trail on the map. He had stopped in the Clock Tower Courtyard. I stopped just before I reached it, taking the map out and hiding its contents with, “Mischief managed.” I put it into my back pocket, and hid myself under the Cloak. I finally rounded the corner and stood under one of the stones arches. Malfoy's back was to me, but he was sitting on a bench by the fountain. Despite the darkness of the early evening, I could see what he was doing. He was...

Smoking.

I narrowed my eyes and waited. Minutes passed, in which he looked up at the sky and...

Smoked.

I stopped myself from tapping my foot impatiently. This isn't quite what I had in mind for my report back to Harry. Eventually, when he was half way through his second cigarette, I had had enough. I stepped back, ensuring he wouldn't be able to see me, and removed the cloak, shoving it into my zipped up jacket. “That will kill you, you know,” I told him as I approached.

If I had surprised him, he hid it well. I took a seat next to him, still keeping a respectful gap, and looked up at the sky, too. It was a clear day; the moon's First Quarter phase was bright against the darkening blue, and yellow-white stars shimmered around it. I caught movement in my side-view, and turned to see Malfoy offering me the last of his cigarette. I took it, and held it.

“Don't waste it,” he chastised me, but there wasn't the usual spite in his voice, “I had to smuggle them in, I don't know how you do it.”

I took a drag and smiled. “I used to steal mugwort from the Herbology greenhouses, mix it with some sage from the kitchens.”

Draco nodded slowly. “Ah, so that's why you like Herbology so much.”

Was that a joke? Surely not.

I stubbed out the butt of the stick and flicked it to the floor in front of us. A thought came to me. “The last Hogsmeade trip had been cancelled.” There was a pause. I looked at him. “How did you smuggle these in?”

He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the litter I made on the ground. It proceeded to burn up altogether, until all that was left in its place were ashes. “You're good at that,” I nodded towards the remains, “the non-verbal spells. Me, not so much.”

“You managed to Apparate though,” he replied. I nodded, remembering the feeling of it during our last lesson; the tightening of my chest, the churning of my stomach, and then the joy as I realised I was in the wooden hoop, five feet away from where I was seconds ago.

We spent a few more moments in silence. I thought back to the last time I had spoken actual sentences to the boy next to me. I suddenly felt the peculiar need to apologise. “Malfoy, I-” I didn't know what I was doing, so I squeezed my eyes shut and came out with it, “I'm sorry... I-” I opened my eyes and glanced at him, hesitating again. “Your mother was ni- accommodating... towards me.”

Draco didn't reply. He remained so still I wondered if he had heard me at all, or if he had fallen asleep with his eyes open. “Have you heard from your father since Christmas?” He asked. Not asleep, then.

I shook my head. “The last time he wrote me was when he told me I was to spend Christmas with you.” It was getting darker and so I wasn't sure if I saw his head tilt in confusion or it was just my imagination. “Why?”

He shook his head. “Just wanted to know if there's been any other news on our supposed engagement. Mother hasn't said-” He paused, cocking his head slightly. “Your father didn't wish you a Merry Christmas?”

I shook my head. “I don't remember the last time I celebrated with him.”

Draco looked directly at me for the first time that night. The darkness surrounding his eyes was made even more evident in the night, and the moonlight highlighted his silver eyes and his fair skin. He looked away once more. “But you celebrate with other people? Potter and the Weasels?”

I let out a light huff at the insulting nickname, but overlooked it otherwise. “No, I didn't know them well enough in my first couple of years here, in Fourth Year we had the Yule Ball which I stayed for, last year Mr Weasley was injured so they had a change of plans, and then this year...” I trailed off.

“You never spent Christmas here, at Hogwarts?”

I shook my head again. “Always at home, unless you count the Yule Ball, but that wasn't really a Christmas dinner and the sorts. At home, but not celebrating.” I paused. “The elves would cook a roast dinner, that was as far as it went.”

“So,” he cleared his throat, “Christmas at the Manor was...”

  
I clenched my jaw and nodded. “My first, I guess.”

Draco looked at me once more. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, nor what the slight pout of his lips meant. I stood from the bench and gestured back towards the castle. “I'm going to bed now.” He nodded. I wondered if I should wish him a goodnight. I decided it was best if I didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy writing the interactions between Kensi and Draco. 
> 
> So, I feel like because I was really trying to follow the canon plot of book/film 6, I didn't really focus on developing Kensi as much as I should have and didn't think about her day to day life away from Harry and the gang (although I have really really enjoyed writing this fic! I still love it). So that is something I'm really focussing on in part 2 and I'm trying to make the chapters themselves longer (about 3k words), so I feel like I've really improved. I hope you guys look forward to it, and thank you so much for your support!


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Harry and Ron were both discharged the next morning, with Hermione escorting them back to the common room. Upon arrival, Lavender gave a shrill noise of what I expected was excitement, but sounded more like anguish to my ears. “Why didn't anyone tell me you were getting out today?” A pause. “Why is _she_ with you?” I turned from my seat on the sofa just in time to see Hermione push past, a scowl on her face.

Harry ducked his head and made a beeline for me, as Ron stalked back out of the portrait, tailed closely by his girlfriend, who was firing accusing questions at him. “We're going to celebrate when that's finally over, right?” I asked Harry as he sat next to me, who simply laughed in response. “I've just been looking over your Herbology assignment,” I waved the parchment at him, “you said you needed help with it?”

Harry nodded with a smile, “Thanks, Kensi.” He looked around him, making sure no one happened to be within earshot, before asking the question I knew was coming, “What happened last night?”

I cleared my throat. “I-I caught him... smoking.”

“Smoking?” Harry looked at me, dumbfounded.

I nodded. “He was smoking outside, that was it.”

“He didn't disappear off the map,” I shook my head, “or- or curse anyone,” I shook my head again, “or openly pledge his allegiance to Voldemort in front of the whole school,” and again, “or kill someone?”

“No, Harry, he didn't do anything.”

“Well,” Harry huffed in annoyance, “that doesn't mean he's not up to anything.”

I nodded, before saying, “So, have you heard from Hermione?” Harry furrowed his eyebrows, and I smirked. “Dean and Ginny?” Realisation dawned on his face and he looked away. “I'll take that as a yes.”

“You know, you shouldn't be so happy about your friend breaking up with her boyfriend,” he berated me.

I shrugged. “They were _always_ arguing, she hated the way he treated her.” I went back to looking over his Herbology work. I underlined an incorrect sentence, showing him the errors, “Harry, Sneezewort is a member of the _yarrow_ family, so daisies, not the deadnettles,” I made an asterisk in the margins, “so you'll need to change this bit, and then rewrite this next bit,” I underlined another sentence, “think _sneezing_ not sting-” I looked over to see his nose in the Potions textbook, and _when did he even pull that out?_ “Harry James Potter!” A hit with a sofa cushion to punctuate each word, causing him to yell out. “I said I would do this _with_ you, not _for_ you,” I huffed, “you know I'm not like Hermione.”

“I'm sorry, Kens,” he closed the book and faced me with a guilty look, “I'm grateful for your help.”

I rolled my eyes and shoved the paper into his hands, letting him look over my corrections. Neville and Seamus walked by on their way out, smiling at me as they went. I gave them a small wave. I chuckled. “Did I tell you that Seamus wanted me to take him to Slughorn's Christmas do?”

Harry laughed. “So you _did_ have other plans.” I shook my head with a smile. “Did you also hear that he was thinking of asking out Susan Bones?”

My eyes widened in surprise. “No! Really?” Harry nodded with a grin. “See,” I sighed, “this is why I miss D.A. lessons, that's the only place I ever heard the gossip.” I pondered for a moment.

Harry hummed in agreement, “I miss it, too. Things have been too busy this year, but maybe everyone could have used it...” He kept talking, but something was niggling in my mind, my brain ticking away. “Though I'm not sure how effective a Patronus would be against pois-”

“The Room of Requirement!” It all came together.

“Ow, my ear, Kens-”

“Sorry, but listen,” I scooted closer to him, “the other day, I saw Malfoy skulking around, I didn't think much of it, but,” I lowered my voice, “he was on the _seventh floor_.” I looked at Harry.

I waited.

“Kensi!” There it was. “You're a genius! He's using the Room of Requirement.” I nodded excitedly. “When he disappears from the map, he's- it's not-” I took a breath, “-the Marauder's never mapped it; it's Unplottable! That _must_ be where he's going!”

~oOo~

“So, now what?” Ron asked in the Great Hall the next morning.

“Now I can finally go and see what he's up to,” Harry told him.

Hermione spoke up, “It's still not that easy, Harry. You can't get in.”

“He managed to last year, with the Inquisitorial Squad,” he argued back.

“Well yes, but that's because he already knew what to look for, after Marietta whats-her-face blabbed.” There was a moment of silence, in which we all seemed to contemplate. Hermione's voice was softer when she spoke again, “You have no idea what it is he's doing, so it's not going to appear for you.”

“Harry,” Ron drew our attention, and nodded to the door.

It was Katie Bell; she was back.

She walked past us and Harry scrambled out of his seat to go after her. Seeing her back, knowing she had been in St Mungo's because she had been _cursed_ made this even more real, as the memories of that day came flooding back. She had nearly _died_ , and all because of... because of Malfoy. It was almost easy to forget, when there was no concrete evidence. ' _Maybe I did, maybe I didn't_ ' were Draco's words.

I stood as Harry's seemingly abrupt conversation ended. He stalked back towards me, anger in his eyes. “She's says she doesn't...” He trailed off, eyes fixed on the Great Hall entrance. I turned to see Draco, looking from Harry to Katie, to me.

And then he ran.

“Harry!” I called out as the boy sprinted after Malfoy. I ran after them, cursing the day I chose to wear new school shoes, and could barely keep up. Their chase lead all the way to the sixth floor boys' bathroom. By the time I reached the entrance, I could already hear spells being cast and glass shattering. A young Hufflepuff was stood, terror in her eyes, not far from me. “Go, find a teacher!” I yelled as I drew my wand. She scurried off and I took a deep breath.

I ventured into the bathroom, wand at the ready. “Harry!” I called out, but the only reply I got was another spell and a fountain of water from the sink in front of me.

Suddenly, Malfoy was in my sights, behind a pillar and chest heaving. His face was contorted in a mixture of rage and... and fear. I made for him, taking a step forward, but before I could get near him, he stood. He raised his wand, stepped out of the pillar, and said, “Cruc _-_ ”

“ _Sectumsempra_!” Harry's voice rang out across the bathroom, and Draco screamed in agony.

The blond boy collapsed to the floor, crying and whimpering in pain. Harry stepped out of the shadows. “No-” My eyes were focussed on Malfoy. His once-white shirt was now soaked red. “Kensi, I-” Harry started, and then stopped. I fell to my knees next to Draco.

My hands were shaking.

I had never seen so much blood before.

I lifted his shirt, slowing when he let out a loud cry, and my stomach churned at the sight. Numerous large gashes covered his torso, and blood poured from them. “Harry, a spell,” I told him with a wavering voice, “a spell, to stop the bleeding. Come on!”

“Step away, Rookwood.” Snape's urgent voice came from the doorway. I quickly fell backwards, crawling away from Malfoy, who had grown quiet. The Professor knelt beside his student, slowly hovering his wand over the body, whispering an incantation. Soon, the blood flow slowed, until the wounds were only weeping slowly and were being drawn together in an attempt to close them. “You need the hospital wing,” Snape told him as he brought the boy to his feet, “don't you dare move.” He shot us a livid expression as he wrapped his arm around Malfoy's torso, and we both watched as they left.


End file.
